


RFL 2: Into the Dark

by sapphire316



Series: Running for Life [2]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fantasy/Adventure, Gen, Probably gonna be some violence, Sequel, Some torture scenes, revolution time, some character death, still not too graphic though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2019-10-04 09:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 47,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire316/pseuds/sapphire316
Summary: [SEQUEL TO RUNNING FOR LIFE] Five months after becoming a Guardian, Jack is slowly but surely adjusting to his new role. Though at first he believes that the worst of his troubles are behind him, a startling discovery once again thrusts him back into peril. With the threat of an impending revolution hanging over Soluna, Jack must step up and truly fill his role as a Guardian. [AU]





	1. A Guardian's Story

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the sequel to my ROTG novel, Running for Life! I have three chapters written that will all be up right away, but after that, I'll (hopefully) update weekly--every Saturday! Enjoy :)

_Tales of the Guardians: #5_

_By W. Joyce_

_Once upon a time, there was a boy named Jack._

_He was seventeen years old. He was tall, pale, and had silvery white hair and crystal blue eyes. He was very thin and often had dark circles under his eyes. He was most commonly seen wearing a heavy, brown, hooded cloak that hid his face._

_Why?_

_Because he was on the run._

_Jack was a snow sprite, a race of people with the ability to fly and control the winter weather. Unfortunately, every other race in the kingdom believed that snow sprites were actually demons. The reason behind this was unclear, but the general agreement was that it was because people thought snow sprites attacked other villages. Since none of the attacks had actually been caused by snow sprites, Jack knew nothing of these false rumors. He was being hunted, and he didn't even know why._

_Jack managed to survive on his own for six years. Since he was eleven, he overcame many hardships and trials. His survival was an incredible feat for a boy his age._

_After he turned seventeen, the group of immortals we know as the Guardians of Childhood sought him out. Upon finding him, they brought him back to the capital of the tsardom, Soluna City, and arranged a meeting with the Tsar._

_Tsar Lunar had some very exciting news for Jack. He had been chosen to become the fifth Guardian!_

_However, spending such a long time on his own meant that Jack was nervous around people now. He wasn't sure that the Tsar was actually telling the truth. To protect himself, he refused the offer._

_Unfortunately for Jack, the choice was not his to make. The evil Nightmare King was rising again, spreading fear and darkness across the world._

_Jack and the Guardians set out to stop him, stopping Nightmare attacks on innocent villagers as they went. They eventually ended up at Jack's old abandoned village, where the Nightmare King had an entrance to his lair. Courageously, they entered the darkness._

_With their combined power, Jack and the Guardians chained the Nightmare King, eliminating his threat from the world. When they returned to Soluna City, they informed the public that snow sprites were not evil. Then, Jack finally accepted the Tsar's request, becoming an official Guardian, and still remains one to this day. Thus, with his past struggles far behind, the winter boy lived happily ever-_

**()()()()**

Jack slammed the book shut with a scowl. "Unbelievable," he growled. "Five months and I'm already reduced to a 'happily ever after'."

Gritting his teeth in irritation, he replaced the book on the shelf. When North had told him that he had earned a spot in a newly written Guardians of Childhood storybook, he had been less than optimistic. It would be geared towards children, after all, so it would make sense that it would be a watered-down version of the events that actually occurred.

Still, was even a  _bit_  of realism too much to ask for?

_Right, I refused Guardianship at first because I was "nervous around people," not because the Guardians hunted me and captured me like an animal,_ Jack thought angrily.  _And my old village wasn't burned to the ground, no! 'Twas merely abandoned! And it makes this whole thing seem like some sort of happy accident...oh, no one did anything wrong, it was all just a silly misunderstanding! Ugh…_

A quiet chuckle sounded behind him. "Not your taste, I take it?"

Jack couldn't help but jump slightly in surprise as he whirled around to face the speaker. His muscles relaxed, however, as he recognized the red-haired man. "Simon," he laughed slightly. "Still have a habit of sneaking up on people, I see. What are you doing here?"

The young man gave a wry smile in response. "Well, I was supposed to just be passing through, but once I heard that the boy who took my arm was getting his very own place in a storybook, how could I leave without looking into it?"

All Jack had to offer in return was a slight scoff. "If you're hoping to be mentioned yourself, you're wasting your time," he said. "The author shaved off most of the actual story."

"To be expected," Simon replied with a nod. "It  _is_  directed towards children. Might as well spare them the gory details."

"The least they could do is acknowledge the fault on all sides," the young sprite grumbled. "They make it seem like everyone but the Nightmare King himself was completely innocent. Pure good versus evil...that never truly happens."

"I'm afraid not everyone proves mature enough to realize that," Simon told him. Then, he chuckled. "That in mind, I would've liked to see how our interactions would be handled in a children's book."

"As would I," Jack agreed with a laugh. "Most likely, they would either portray you as evil to justify the loss of your arm, or as a poor, innocent passerby who unfortunately had been possessed by a vile Fearling, and who  _of course_  still remained in possession of all four of his limbs, and  _certainly_  hadn't met our perfect young hero, Jack, yet!"

Simon wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Please, spare me the theatrics," he scoffed. "Ridiculous how children are apparently not allowed to know that the world is not divided into black and white. Their innocence should be preserved, of course, but they should not be raised to be naive adults."

"But, 'tis the nature of the world," Jack concluded. "As aggravating as it can be, it won't change anytime soon. For now, we'll just have to let kids believe that I'm living happily ever after, and, if any book ever mentions it, be confused by the fact that you and I can even talk to each other."

Simon nodded in agreement. It was true that their acquaintanceship was far from conventional. A few years before he had become a Guardian, Jack had been passing through Simon's hometown when his identity as a snow sprite had been discovered. Simon, a skilled archer, had nearly managed to catch the boy, but Jack's unpredictable magic had kicked in, serving to both save the sprite and freeze Simon's left arm solid. The two more officially met two years later in a cemetery, where Jack had gone to mourn his younger sister's recent death alone. Simon, having devised a contraption worn on his leg to retain his ability to use a bow, intended to finish what he had started and end the snow sprite's life.

However, the two began to talk instead. Jack explained what had happened and that everything was purely self-defense. He hadn't exactly expected Simon to understand, but the young man had been surprisingly mature about the situation once he had learned the truth. Unfortunately, a Fearling in league with the dark being who had secretly led Simon to Jack in the first place possessed the archer and attempted to carry out the murder anyway. Jack was saved by a protective spell and the Fearling was eventually driven from Simon's body. Ultimately, the two parted peacefully as respectful acquaintances.

Seeing as Simon was a hunter by trade, he often traveled between the northern and southern regions of Soluna, called Iskald and Motoraus respectfully, and usually made a stop in the capital, Soluna City. Jack was currently staying in the city full-time, as it was where the other Guardians were helping him get used to his new role as one of them. Luckily, the weather there was chilly year-round, so it was an ideal place for a snow sprite to live.

Because they both frequented the area, Jack and Simon often encountered each other by chance, and had become more friendly towards one another as a result. They were not explicitly "friends," but they were willing to have the occasional conversation. Given their misdeeds against each other, they both figured they had reached a point at which they were even, and neither desired any continuation of conflict between them.

Now, they both stepped out of the small bookstore and into the silvery, twilit streets of Soluna City. Silver was considered a color representative of regality and poise, and the capital was almost entirely coated in silver that had been magically preserved to the point where it would never tarnish. The inside of the Tsar's palace was the same way, but Jack felt that it gave off an entirely different air. The palace was cold, lifeless, and eerie, while the city streets were alive, busy, and beautiful. Jack had never exactly been fond of crowds, but he was gradually beginning to get used to them.

"So, off to Motoraus again, I take it?" Jack asked as they walked.

Simon nodded. "Yes," he said. "I've got a rather large stock of meat I need to sell down there." He smirked slightly. "There's so much I even had to buy an extra saddlebag to carry it all. Not bad for just one arm, hm?"

Jack gave a nod in response. "Not bad at all," he agreed. "When are you heading out?"

"In about three days," Simon replied. "I'd like to conduct a bit of business here before traveling back down there. Why do you ask?"

The boy shrugged. "I was curious. Interestingly enough, I'm going to Motoraus myself soon, only I have to leave tomorrow morning."

The archer's eyebrows raised in surprise. "A snow sprite going to Motoraus? I thought they couldn't handle such intense heat, especially in summer."

"Normally, we can't," said Jack. "But it's for official business...the Tsar's sending me out on what he calls my 'first solo mission'. It's to get me used to my role as a Guardian, apparently. He gave me this to wear down there." Jack showed the young man the silver amulet around his neck, set with a shimmering blue gem. "'Tis infused with magic to ward off the heat."

"Interesting…" Simon mused as he examined the amulet. "That seems like quite the treasure." He looked up while Jack replaced it beneath his tunic. "What is your mission? Or is it some sort of secret?"

Jack gave a shrug. "Perhaps 'mission' is too glamorous a term," he said. "It's more of a brief assignment. It does sound serious, as children in a Motorean village are reportedly going missing, but all signs point to the culprits being a small group of bandits merely holding them for ransom. Luckily, they seem to be keeping the children safe and healthy so they can be returned...the bandits aren't completely bloodthirsty. Nothing I can't handle."

Simon nodded. "Well, I wish you luck all the same."

"Thank you."

"So, where are you headed at the moment?"

"Back to the base," Jack replied. "I need to finish packing Zephyr's saddlebags for the journey."

"Ah, then I won't keep you," Simon told him. "I have selling to do, after all. Travel safely."

"Thank you. I wish the same for you."


	2. Home Base

The Guardian base located in Soluna City was one of five in existence. There was one hidden in each of the five regions of the tsardom of Soluna; Iskald, to the north, Motoraus, to the south, eastern Kilatai, western Ostea, and the capital at the center of the land. Jack had never been to any of the bases aside from the Soluna City location, but he could realistically assume that no two of them looked quite the same.

In a manner of speaking, the building was directly out in the open, just waiting for someone to stumble across it. It mostly blended in well with the other silver structures surrounding it, but the elaborate "G" symbol etched into the front door would certainly have been a dead giveaway if not for the protective spell cast around the perimeter. The magic caused most people to simply overlook the base's existence, their gaze sliding from the bakery to the left of it to the tailor on its right side.

It also had a strange effect on immortal beings within its radius just outside of the building, as Jack had quickly discovered the hard way. He did not quite understand how it worked, but apparently, the protective spell reacted with the magic sustaining his newly-gained immortality and caused him to become completely nonexistent to the mortal eye-or the mortal touch, for that matter. Though he would never admit it, it had taken about a half an hour of consoling before he had recovered from the discomforting feeling of having a person walk directly through him when he lingered outside for too long.

He was told that this feature was put in place in order to further conceal the fact that the building was a Guardian base, as it would prevent people from actually seeing any Guardians enter. Jack fully understood this and thought that it was a clever tactic, but still privately found the particular effect exceedingly unnerving. He generally strove to enter the base as quickly as possible so as to avoid any further ghost-like encounters.

Such was his behavior currently, as he swiftly moved through the area affected by the magic, opening the door and slipping into the building in one fluid motion. He sighed with relief as he closed the door behind him, then ventured further into the base, waiting for one of the others' inevitable greeting.

Sure enough, mere moments after Jack's entrance, Nicholas St. North, Guardian of Wonder, approached the boy, smiling amicably. "Ah, Jack!" he called in his thick, Northern Iskald accent. "What did you think of storybook?"

"It left much to be desired," Jack replied dully, only earning a laugh from the taller man in return.

"Ah, well, is children's story," North responded with a knowing nod. "Better to keep them innocent, yes?"

"More like sheltered…" the snow sprite mumbled, but dropped the issue. "Anyway...the plans for my departure haven't changed at all, have they?"

North shook his head. "No, I believe everything is same. You will leave tomorrow at dawn, yes?"

Jack nodded. "I just need to get the last of my saddlebags packed, and then I'll be all set to go."

"Ah, excellent," North replied with a smile. "Has expansion spell been working well?"

"It has," Jack told him. "I think I could fit Zephyr himself in one of the bags if I needed to." He smiled slightly. "Thank you, by the way. I don't think I ever formally said it."

"You are very welcome!" North laughed. "Now, I will not keep distracting you. Go ahead and finish up!"

After nodding in acknowledgement, Jack headed through the main meeting area and into his room (despite the passage of five months, he still marveled at the ability to call a room his own) at the back of the base. The greatly chilled air of his accommodations eased him, causing his aggravation regarding the storybook to dissipate. As frustrating as it was to have his life's story so heavily diluted and glorified, he figured that he could cope with it so long as he was still able to tell the true tale to those who asked.

Jack's room was relatively simple in layout; there was a bed, a desk, a chair, a dresser, and a nightstand placed neatly around the area, as well as his beloved staff propped up against the wall by the door. The walls were painted a serene shade of sky blue, and the hues of the furniture followed a similar, if paler, pattern. The only details interrupting the otherwise minimalistic design of the room were the intricate, frost-like patterns etched into the furniture and floors. North claimed that the patterns were hand-carved rather than placed there by magic, and though he figured that such detailed work would take an astronomical amount of time, Jack found himself believing that the older Guardian was perfectly capable of such a feat. He only wondered when exactly North had taken the time to actually sit down and carve everything, but that was a question for another time.

Currently, a large quantity of soft blankets and plush animals were spread out across Jack's bed. Seeing as he was an immortal Guardian now, Jack had no need for most of the supplies a regular person might require while crossing the desert into Motoraus. Instead, his saddlebags were to be packed with gifts of comfort for the captured children-it was likely that he would find them shaken and scared, so North proposed the idea of providing them with soft, welcoming objects to hold in order to ease their fears. Recalling his own previous tendency to cling to his woolen cloak when anxious, Jack readily agreed with the sentiment.

The young sprite carefully folded each blanket and placed them one by one into the bottom of his last saddlebag, marveling at just how much North's expansion spell had increased its volume. He found himself easily able to fit all of the blankets and stuffed toys inside the bag with room to spare.

_Amazing…_  he thought, shaking his head in disbelief as he picked up the bag to test its weight.  _And it hasn't even gotten any heavier…_

He idly wondered how long it would take him to become accustomed to the wide variety of magic utilized by the Guardians of Childhood. Being only familiar with ice magic himself, Jack couldn't deny his interest in other forms of the art. From the Tsar's lunar powers to the Guardians' potions and spells, he had directly encountered many new types of magic over the past several months that he had previously only read about in storybooks as a child.

_It just goes to show how far I've come…_  he silently acknowledged.  _The magic of snow sprites is impressive, without a doubt, but it's also familiar to me. This, though...I've never seen anything quite like it._

Suddenly, he was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the door opening behind him. His elfin ear twitched slightly at the noise and, upon turning to look, the boy was met with the sight of a familiar Pooka entering the room.

Jack snorted slightly as he placed the packed saddlebag back on his bed. "What, don't know how to knock, Kangaroo?" he asked, a dark eyebrow raised.

E. Aster Bunnymund, Guardian of Hope, rolled his emerald eyes and retorted, "Nah, just didn't think it was necessary, Frostbite."

"Of course you didn't." He leaned back against the wall, head slightly tilted questioningly. "So...to what do I owe the, ahem,  _pleasure_  of this little house call?"

"Don't sass me, kid," Aster warned. "Or I might decide not ta give ya this." He held up a small container with what looked like a white paste inside. As for what exactly it was, however, Jack was at a loss.

"And...what is that?" he asked dully. "Another teeth-cleaning solution Tooth keeps trying to force on everyone?"

Aster rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Nah, the sheila knows ya keep yer teeth clean. 'Sides, if it was that, I wouldn't be deliverin' it." The Pooka tossed the container over to the sprite, who just barely managed to catch it.

"Fair enough," Jack murmured, looking over the unfamiliar substance. "But you still haven't told me what it is."

"It's for yer trip ta Motoraus," Aster explained. "Ya put it on yer skin and it keeps ya from gettin' sunburned. I just mixed it up last night, actually. I figured since ya don't wear that giant cloak anymore, ya were gonna need a little somethin' ta protect yer pale-as-hell skin."

"Aw, that was really thoughtful of you, Cottontail," Jack teased. "My pale-as-hell skin thanks you."

Rather than fire back with sarcasm of his own, Aster simply raised an eyebrow in what appeared, oddly enough, to be confusion. "Hold up, mate," he said. "What did ya just say?"

Jack blinked. "Er...my pale-as-hell skin thanks you?"

The older Guardian shook his head. "No, no, before that."

Not seeing the point of Aster's questions, Jack responded slowly, "I said...aw, that was really thoughtful of you, Cottontail."

Aster stared at him for a few seconds, then, much to Jack's chagrin, suddenly began to laugh.

"What!?" Jack asked impatiently. "Was it the nickname? Because if you can give  _me_  nicknames, then I can-"

"No, kid, it's not that!" Aster quickly interrupted, still chuckling. "Ya just said…'that was.' Not ''twas,' like ya normally do."

Jack once again found himself blinking in confusion. "I...did?" he asked.

The rabbit nodded in confirmation. "Sure did," he replied. "Looks like over five months away from Central Iskald's enough for ya ta start losin' yer accent."

_I'm...losing my accent?_  the young sprite thought, not with any sort of concern, but merely with surprise. Jack could honestly say that he hadn't noticed, though he supposed that it did make sense. His dialect was very region-specific, after all, and he had not heard anyone speaking like he was raised to in a long time. Even during his seven years on the run, he hadn't had enough prolonged contact with other people to begin mimicking their speaking habits. However, since he now regularly walked among the people of Soluna City, his Central Iskaldian vernacular seemed to be fading considerably.

Such a fact was not of utmost importance to him, though. He wasn't about to mourn an accent, nor would he actively try to maintain it. Some things simply faded naturally with time.

Besides, thinking back on it, such a dialect was too...uptight for his liking. If he was to be the Guardian of Fun, there was no need for the guarded formality that he had grown accustomed to. He realized that as he grew more comfortable with his new environment, he gradually slipped out of his old ways and into more casual habits. Evidently, the changing of his speaking patterns was an example of such.

At that point, Jack figured that he should offer a response to Aster's words. Thus, he merely shrugged and said, "Well, as long as I don't somehow manage to acquire your accent instead, I'll be happy."

Aster's smirk almost immediately turned to a deadpan expression as he muttered, "Yeah, yeah, very funny, mate. Anyway, ya done packin', or what?"

Jack chuckled. "What, can't wait for me to leave?"

"Exactly," the Pooka replied, not missing a beat. "A full week without havin' ta deal with yer sass? Sounds like a dream come true ta me."

"Wow, love you too," Jack responded sarcastically, rolling his sapphire eyes. "But to answer your question, yes, I'm finished with packing." He held up the saddlebag as though to prove his claims. "I'll be ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning."

Aster nodded in acknowledgement. "Good. Now, it's gettin' late. Sandy wanted me ta tell ya ta make sure ya get plenty of rest before ya go. Don't forget, even immortals need ta sleep sometimes."

"I know, I know," Jack told him with a nod. "He gave me a pouch of dreamsand a couple days ago, I'll just use that." He neglected to mention the fact that the Sand Spinner had given said pouch to him after he had noticed that the youngest Guardian had been waking up with far too many nightmares as of late, but he figured that Aster could guess as much.

Aster merely nodded again. "Alright," he said. He began to leave the room, then paused, glancing over his shoulder. "By the way, North'll probably try ta do somethin' special for ya tomorrow, so be prepared," he advised. "Ya might end up gettin' outta here later than ya think."

_Sounds just like North,_ Jack silently acknowledged.  _Someone as over the top as him would no doubt attempt to make my departure just as over the top...even if I'll only be gone a week at most._

"I'll keep that in mind," he said aloud. "Thanks for the warning."

"No problem, mate," Aster replied. "Now, get yer ass ta bed before Sandy comes in here ta knock ya out himself." With that, the Pooka exited the room, leaving Jack alone once more.

Jack usually preferred staying awake late into the night, but he had no doubts that Sandy would come in and force him to sleep if he stayed up for much longer. He placed his packed saddlebag on the nightstand, along with the container Aster had given him, then proceeded to get ready for bed as quickly as he could manage, lest he invoke the wrath of a certain Guardian of Dreams. He did not bother to go talk to any of the others; he knew they would only chide him for not getting rest before his journey and demand that he go straight to bed. They tended to be the slightest bit overbearing in that way.

Besides, he knew that proper farewells would be saved for the following morning. Anything they had to say could be said to him then. This in mind, Jack applied some of his personal dreamsand to his eyes, soon drifting off to sleep.


	3. Start of a Journey

_Surviving the Desert_

_By William B. Hohtt_

_When attempting to cross the vast desert that separates Motorean civilization from the rest of Soluna, exercise extreme caution. DO NOT attempt to make the journey on foot, and make sure that your mount's saddlebags are full of supplies, especially water. In general, ensure that you follow these guidelines:_

_**BRING ITEMS OF SUBSISTENCE** _

_A desert is defined as "an extremely dry landscape characterized by its scarcity of vegetation and sources of water." As such, water is the most important item to keep with you during your trip, followed closely by food. Make sure that you take several insulated bottles of water with you (magic-infused is best for cooling purposes) and conserve it for as long as you can. Only drink when you feel thirsty so that your supply may last as long as it takes you to reach a town or oasis. Do the same with your food supply, and make sure that you don't bring food that could easily spoil._

_**BE KIND TO YOUR MOUNT** _

_Ensure that you have extra food and water for the animal's consumption, and give them frequent chances to rest to avoid overexertion. The mount's well-being aside, being forced to wander the desert on foot could only lead to tragedy for you._

_**DRESS APPROPRIATELY** _

_For most people, mention of a desert calls to mind burning heat and glaring sun. While this is certainly true of the daylight hours, during the night, the area will become dark and frigid due to sand's inability to retain heat. As such, ensure that you have clothes suited for both extreme heat and extreme cold on hand during your crossing. During the day, keep your skin covered to avoid sunburn, but wear lighter, more airy fabrics. At night, you may benefit from a thick cloak or even a blanket._

_**DO NOT TRAVEL ALONE** _

_It is always best to have companionship on a journey through the desert. You will have to take more supplies, of course, but support from another could save you in a dire situation. You could easily get lost in the desert alone, and if such a tragedy were to occur, the rest of the tsardom would be none the wiser. That being said, also remember to keep a map and compass on your person at all times in order to avoid losing your way. If possible, also make use of any pathfinding spells you or a companion might know of for best results._

_**BE ON YOUR GUARD** _

_While wildlife in the desert is limited, there have been several reported sightings of bandit groups taking up residence amongst the dunes. It is believed that they gather in small underground hideouts near oases, ready to attack unsuspecting travelers. If you don't own a weapon or know how to defend yourself, bring someone who does with you. Take whatever other precautions you feel to be necessary, and stay safe out there._

**()()()()**

Sapphire eyes dull and half-lidded, Jack leafed through a few more pages of the desert survival guide he had picked up a couple of days prior, interest in the text steadily fading. Most of the advice the book had to offer would not even apply to an immortal such as himself, and the rest was practically common sense.

Good thing it had only cost him a single silver coin. Those weren't worth much in Soluna, especially given the vast quantities of silver that lined the capital city itself. He supposed he should have figured that such an inexpensive book wouldn't hold much merit.

Jack gave a slight sigh and shut the book, setting it down on the nightstand beside his bed, where he currently lay. He had woken up slightly earlier than he had initially planned, and now that the book had proven pointless, the young sprite was not quite sure what to do with himself. He considered trying to go back to sleep, but wasn't sure that it would be worth it. At that point, he was only about an hour away from having to get up, so applying any more dreamsand would likely cause him to oversleep. Considering his less-than-favorable track record with sleeping without the aid of dreamsand lately, the logical decision would be to rise and try to do something useful instead.

Regardless, his eyelids did not seem to possess a sense of logic. They steadily grew heavier as Jack continued staring dully up at the ceiling, and eventually, he was forced to close them.

For a time, he lay there in peace, suspended in a state that was not quite awake, yet not quite asleep. Soon, however, sleep tugged at his mind, upsetting the fragile balance that he had found, and pulling him into unconsciousness.

Within minutes, he was dreaming.

**()()()()**

_-heat seared his skin and clogged his lungs-_

_-_ " _ **There is no escape."**_ _-_

_-_ " _ **Not a soul shall stand in my way."**_ _-_

_-_ " _ **Jackson…?"**_ _-_

_-staggering away from the hunter's body-_

_-knife's blade fell-_

_-_ " _ **NO!"**_ _-_

_-blood pooling around her-_

_-knife sticking out of her chest-_

_-fell into his own shadow-_

_-_ " _ **...kill the Guardians…"**_ _-_

_-_ _**Kill...KILL…** _ _-_

_-_ _**Maybe I deserve to suffer** _ _-_

…

…

_..._ _**run, run, run away...** _

**()()()()**

After little more than a few minutes, Jack's eyes snapped open once more, visions of the past flooding his mind. He sat up in bed, trying to slow his quickened breathing.

_Damn it…_  he inwardly cursed as he brought up a hand to rub his forehead.  _Five months...and still, the nightmares haven't subsided…_

Indeed, though the boy's living conditions had significantly improved since his years on the run, he had still been constantly plagued with nightmares every time he closed his eyes. If anything, the dreams had gotten even worse during his short period of Guardianship. He had never directly spoken with the others about his plight, but Jack knew that they had most likely figured it out long ago. If no one else, Sandy certainly knew, as he had recently provided the young sprite with his own personal pouch of dreamsand to ease the night terrors and help him get some rest.

Jack was almost certain that he had never been more grateful for anything else in his life.

He was not entirely sure what had caused his rate of nightmares to increase tenfold, but he had an idea. He privately assumed that, in gaining a better life and a roof over his head, he had somehow developed an intense fear of the past.

Everything that he saw in his dreams were his memories. The acrid smoke rising from the fire that destroyed his village, the frozen expression of the man he had accidentally killed, the pool of blood collecting beneath his little sister's limp form, the lilting voices of his mother and father singing him a lullaby, the insatiable hunger for fear that engulfed his entire being as his Fearling self, the gnawing, twisting feeling of his own self doubt and hatred always lying at the back of his mind and heart...all of this haunted him.

Jack had finally found some semblance of peace amidst the hellish tempest of pain that he called his life, and he was now terrified that it too would be taken from him.

He was terrified of once again being left alone to suffer.

The winter boy flinched and banished the sickening thoughts from his mind.  _I'm a Guardian now,_ he firmly reminded himself.  _I'm not alone...I'm not alone and I never will be again…_  He grimaced.  _So long as I don't do something to mess it all up…_

Easier said than done.

"No," he murmured, shaking his head. "I can't dwell on this now...I need to stay focused on my mission."

_And prepare myself for whatever extravagant send-off North has planned for me…_  he mentally added.

That in mind, the boy pushed back has blankets and stood, dressing quickly in his usual blue tunic. He then pulled his belt around his waist, deftly fastening the silver crescent-moon buckle, then slipped his boots on as well. After half-heartedly running a comb through his eternally windswept hair (and, of course, ensuring that his teeth were clean in order to avoid the wrath of a certain fairy), Jack busied himself with double checking the contents of the saddlebag he had packed the night before. He was only stalling at that point, but it was preferable to falling back asleep.

When he was sure he had finally wasted enough time, Jack gathered up everything he would be taking with him on his journey and exited his room. Quickly dropping off his saddlebag and staff near the entrance to the base's indoor stable, he proceeded to head back towards the main meeting area empty-handed.

Almost immediately after entering the room, he was forcefully pulled into a tight hug, courtesy of the Guardian of Wonder.

"Good morning, Jack!" North greeted jovially as he shifted his grip to only hold the boy's shoulders with one arm. "Did you have good sleep?"

Jack snorted slightly and nodded. "Thanks to Sandy, yes," he said.

The little golden man in question gave a friendly smile in response, paired with a nod of greeting. Jack returned both the nod and the smile, adding, "I appreciate your help." Sandy smiled once more, giving Jack a thumbs-up.

"That is good!" North laughed, patting Jack on the back. "You have to be rested for trip, yes?"

Jack couldn't help but roll his eyes at that. "I know, North," he sighed. "You've only told me at least a dozen times…" His gaze dulled to a deadpan as his eyes swept over the other three Guardians. "...each."

This time, it was Toothiana that spoke up. "Still, it's important!" the feathered fairy insisted. "Immortality takes a long time to get used to...we don't get tired nearly as often as mortals do, so it's easy for us to forget to get the amount of sleep that we  _do_  need. If we're not careful, we can get drained and severely weakened by exhaustion, and someone with as powerful magic as yours is even more susceptible."

Jack couldn't help but heave a sigh running his fingers through his snowy white hair. "Yeah, yeah...I found that one out the hard way during my first few days as an immortal, remember?"

Less than a week into his Guardianship, Jack had indeed experienced immortality exhaustion firsthand. Having not felt tired for days, he didn't bother with sleeping for a time. Unfortunately, it was at that point that he had decided to test out his recently unlocked ice magic-while previously inaccessible for reasons he was still not entirely sure of, the full extent of his snow sprite power had shown itself at last during the battle with the Nightmare King. Naturally, Jack had wanted to see exactly what else he was capable of now.

He didn't expect to pass out the moment a blast of ice left his fingertips. Or to wake up two days later wondering what the hell had happened to him.

Needless to say, he had been more a bit more careful after that particular incident.

"I remember," Tooth conceded. She then crossed her arms, eyeing him sternly. "And I remember the other four times as well."

...she had him there.

"Well...fair enough," Jack replied, grinning sheepishly. "You win this time."

As Toothiana smiled triumphantly, Aster scoffed. "She wins most times, mate," he pointed out.

"Unless I'm mistaken," Jack said dully. "You were not asked."

Aster merely shrugged in return. "Don't need ta be. Just felt like I had ta say it."

"Well you didn't-"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" North interrupted with a laugh. "Save fighting for later. For now, is time to say goodbye! That is why we are here, yes?"

Aster rolled his emerald eyes and shook his furry head. "I dunno about the rest of ya, but the kid's only here ta make my life hell."

"And the kangaroo's only here to antagonize me even though I've done nothing wrong," Jack retorted.

"Oh, I beg to differ, Frostbite. Ya've gotten on my nerves enough to justify every word I've said."

"That's a lie!"

"'Tis it?"

"Oh, don't even start with-"

"Boys!" Tooth cut in impatiently, hands on her hips. "That's enough!"

The two of them instantly silenced after one glimpse of the expression on the fairy's face.

"...he didn't even use ''tis' correctly," was all Jack could mumble in response.

"I don't care," Tooth told them matter-of-factly. "Now, you boys make up so we can give Jack a proper send off, alright?"

Jack sighed. "We started as 'gentlemen,' and now we've been reduced to 'boys.'" He shook his head and looked up at Aster, a dark eyebrow raised. "Temporary truce?" he asked.

After taking a moment to think, Aster shrugged and replied, "Fine. Truce." They shook hands, which seemed to satisfy Toothiana.

The sprite and the Pooka no longer actually despised each other, but they had quickly become friendly rivals in the days following Jack's becoming a Guardian. The two almost constantly bickered and argued, but according to North, they were beginning to act like a pair of brothers. Both Aster and Jack denounced this theory immediately, but the other three Guardians still tended to tease them about it frequently.

Regardless, despite their common "fights," the two were usually able to quickly make amends and interact civilly with each other...at least for the next few minutes, anyway.

Presently, they stepped away from each other after shaking hands and allowed North to take the floor once again. "Jack Frost," he began with a smile. "You have been with us for five months now. Considering all things, you have adjusted well! And now...you are going out on own for Guardian business for first time. How do you feel?"

"I'm...a little bit nervous," Jack admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've never actually been to Motoraus...I don't even speak the language."

North nodded. "Is understandable, but do not worry. You will meet with translator speaking both Iskald and Motorean once you reach city. He will help you know where to go and what to do."

"Good," said Jack. He paused for a moment, glanced around, then looked back up at North, eyebrows raised. "So...I must say I'm surprised. No decorations? No toys flying around? Not a trace of music anywhere? You must be losing your dramatic flair, North."

"Actually, we talked him out of all that," Tooth said with a slight chuckle. "He wanted to throw a party of sorts, but...we convinced him there wasn't the time."

"It would have been amazing!" North stubbornly insisted, not noticing how Jack mouthed a silent "thank you" in Tooth's direction.

"Well, as...enjoyable as that might have been," Jack said aloud, stopping North from beginning to ramble about his previous plans. "It would be best for me to get going soon. Now, even. I have a two-day's ride across the desert ahead of me, and I don't want to keep those captured children waiting for too long. They're probably terrified…"

Luckily, the boy's words seemed to bring North back to his senses, and the older Guardian gave a firm nod in response. "Ah...you are right. We will not keep you. Let us go to stables to get your horse, and then we four will see you off!"

The five of them left the room at once, soon entering the stables, where Jack's white stallion, Zephyr, was waiting in his stall. Jack smiled and stroked the horse's nose affectionately, murmuring, "Alright, Zeph...ready to get going?" Zephyr nickered as if in response to the snow sprite's question. As such, Jack quickly outfitted Zephyr with his tack (each piece embedded with a small cooling gem like his own in order to protect the horse from the heat as well), then added the saddlebags. He led Zephyr out of the stall and towards a tunnel entrance that would be their way out of the base, then turned back to face the other Guardians.

"Well...off I go," he said with a slight smile.

"Good luck to you, Jack!" North called out to him.

"Take care of yourself!" Tooth added.

"Yer gonna be fine, mate," Aster put in confidently.

The ever-silent Sandy merely smiled and waved, his expression conveying his well-wishes perfectly.

Grin never fading, Jack nodded in thanks to them, then mounted Zephyr. "Okay, Zephyr," he whispered. "Let's go." With a kick to the stallion's sides, the two were off at a rapid gallop, pounding through the tunnel on their way to the surface.


	4. Enter Motoraus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy...only four chapters in and I've already missed two updates.
> 
> SUPER sorry about the lack of updates for a while...school's been kind of kicking me in the face lately with homework, projects, essays, and midterms. It's just been...yikes. But I'm here now, so we can continue!

The journey across the desert was a long, difficult, and decidedly boring one. Towards the beginning of the ride, Jack had been occupied with marveling over how well the cooling gem he had been given was working. Just as he had been told it would, merely wearing the amulet around his neck kept his entire body comfortably cold to the point where he seemed physically incapable of even breaking a sweat. Zephyr seemed to greatly benefit from the gems embedded in his tack as well, cantering without tire across the sweltering sands despite the heat that normally would have winded him in no time at all.

Once the awe related to the magical gems had faded, however, Jack was left with the undesirable realization that the rest of the two-day journey was destined to be unbelievably dull. He didn’t consider himself alone, but the fact remained that horses were not the best conversationalists, and the boy had little else to occupy his attention besides ensuring that his stallion did not stray from the sand-flecked path beaten by travelers long before them.

Thanks to Aster’s sun-blocking concoction, the Tsar’s cooling gems, and the pathfinding spell North had taught him days prior, Jack had no physical difficulties in his travels. Nevertheless…

_Moon above, this is_ **_boring_ ** _,_ he caught himself thinking multiple times. The young sprite was no stranger to traveling, but he was less than accustomed to landscapes where there was quite literally nothing to look at aside from sky and sand. Usually, there was at least something else that could catch his attention and keep intense boredom from setting in.

Of course, this was not counting the constant terror he had been forced to live in due to his state of being on the run, but that was beside the point.

The two days of travel felt as though they dragged on for longer, but finally, to Jack’s relief, he came upon his destination: the northernmost Motorean city known as Sahran. At last, he was able to see brown, stone buildings rise up in the distance, and soon, he was walking among them, carefully dismounting and leading Zephyr through the crowded streets of the city.

As he walked, he was acutely aware of the multitude of stares he was attracting with his appearance alone. He knew that the people of Motoraus were significantly less wary of snow sprites than the rest of the tsardom proved to be (they knew that sprites were drastically weakened in heat, and so they had nothing to fear in their homeland), but a member of his kind was still an extremely rare sight this far south.

Granted, he acknowledged that snow sprites were an extremely rare sight in general nowadays, but quickly pushed that dark thought away before it could persist.

Jack couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t exceedingly uncomfortable with the amount of eyes that shifted in his direction over and over again. He figured that most of these people probably knew exactly who he was, since the news of his Guardianship had spread rapidly across the entirety of the tsardom directly following the announcement. As a result, he doubted any random passerby would attempt to harm him, but he still could not shake the old urge to reach back for a hood that wasn’t there.

_Get ahold of yourself, Jack…_ he mentally chided himself, a slight grimace coming to his pale face. _You’re fine...just find the translator and then you can get started on saving those children..._

Unfortunately, finding the translator was no easy task. It was true that Jack had been given precise directions to their meeting spot and was now following them dutifully, but it was still frustratingly difficult to navigate the packed streets with a horse by his side. Several times, he was almost tempted to mount Zephyr once more in order to get a better look at his surroundings, but quickly thought better of it. He wasn’t exactly inclined to stand out from the crowd even more than he already did.

The reason for the streets being so crowded was the fact that they were narrowed considerably by the presence of several stalls and vendors on both sides. Unlike the indoor shops of Soluna City, many Motorean merchants seemed to have chosen to conduct their business outside, which, Jack had to admit, appeared to be a rather profitable strategy, as they were able to call out to the people passing right by them and display their wares openly without the hindrance of store walls. Several times, a few merchants called directly to Jack, attempting to entice the clear newcomer to their stalls, but the boy, having no idea how to speak or even understand Motorish, merely smiled thinly and politely shook his head before continuing forward.

Finally, the young Guardian was able to lead Zephyr into the much less crowded side street where they were to wait for the translator. Thankfully, they only stood there about a minute or so before they were approached by a dark-haired, tanned-skinned, clearly Motorean man who looked a little over a decade or so older than Jack.

“Ah, you are Jack Frost, correct?” he asked, his formal and decidedly un-Aster-like accent suggesting he was from somewhere in the northwestern region of Motoraus as opposed to the southeastern area the Pooka originated from.

“Yes,” Jack answered, relieved to finally hear words he was familiar with. “That’s me.”

The man smiled warmly and nodded in greeting. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Frost,” he said. “My name is Ayrin, and I will be your translator over the course of your stay here.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Jack replied. He then chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and adding, “But you don’t have to call me Mr. Frost...just Jack is fine.”

Ayrin gave a slight chuckle as well. “I will keep that in mind,” he said with a nod. “Now, come with me. A few of our city guards would like to speak with you about your mission.”

**()()()()**

Jack soon discovered that conversing via translator was a rather unique experience. He privately thought it strange to have the entire conversation be essentially controlled by one man, rather than each member involved. The moment Jack spoke, Ayrin would (he assumed) directly translate his words into Motorish for the city’s captain of the guard, who would then respond and have Ayrin tell Jack in Iskald what he had said.

The young sprite idly wondered if there had ever been a translator that had intentionally twisted the words of two important officials in order to pit them against each other. He quickly banished the thought, however, putting faith in the fact that the Guardians would have found him a translator he could realistically trust.

“Captain Terrah would like to know exactly how much your fellow Guardians have informed you about our situation,” Ayrin was saying, addressing the boy.

“Well,” Jack began. “I know that a group of bandits has been kidnapping children from this city and holding them for ransom, and that my task is to find them and recover the victims. However...I do not know where to begin looking for them.”

Ayrin relayed his message, waited for the captain’s reply, then responded, “It seems that you know nearly everything there is to know. All that is left to explain is the location and what you are to do with the bandits themselves.”

After waiting a few more moments for the captain to speak once more, he continued, “You are to incapacitate them, but ideally, keep them alive. They will be brought back to the city for a brief trial, then likely punished accordingly.”

Jack nodded, somewhat relieved. He wasn’t sure if he would have been quite willing to walk in and slaughter the bandits if he was asked to do so, no matter their crime. Ending the life of another was far from appealing to him, especially given his history with the subject.

“I can do that,” Jack told them. “Just direct me to their location and I will take care of things there.”

“Good,” Ayrin replied once the captain had spoken. “I will send two guards to escort you to the area in which their lair lies.”

Captain Terrah then turned to the group of soldiers that lined the far wall and called out, “Kyro! Rivahn!”

The two men in question stepped away from the wall and stood at attention, giving their captain a brief salute. Ayrin went on to recite the captain’s next words, explaining, “Both of these men speak a small amount of Iskald, likely enough for any necessary communication. No dedicated translator is to be sent into danger, so for now, my guards will have to do. If you need them to do anything for you, you need only ask.”

Jack gave a grateful nod in response. “Thank you, sir, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said politely.

Once Ayrin had translated the snow sprite’s words, the captain smiled and nodded in return. He spoke a few more words, which Ayrin repeated as, “Good luck, young Guardian. Please...bring our children home.”

“Don’t worry, Captain,” Jack replied determinedly. “I will do everything I can to save them.”

**()()()()**

Jack, Kyro, and Rivahn parted ways from Terrah, Ayrin, the other soldiers that had been present, and Zephyr, as well. Jack was admittedly reluctant to leave his equine companion behind in an unfamiliar city, but Terrah had assured him that the stallion would be well cared for in his absence. Jack still worried, but regardless, even he had to admit that bringing a large horse along to complete a task requiring stealth would be less than intelligent, so he agreed to press on without him.

The two guards led the boy back to the outskirts of the city and a little ways into the desert. Just as the cheap desert survival guide Jack had purchased had said, they explained as carefully as they could with their limited knowledge of Iskald, most bandit groups had taken to placing their hideouts underneath the desert sands, both to avoid detection and to keep cool in the Motorean heat. As such, as they neared a small oasis, the guards quickly stopped Jack and gestured for him to keep quiet.

“This place,” Kyro whispered, gesturing at the oasis. “They hide here...careful. Underground, but not blind.”

Rivahn nodded in agreement. “Probably guarded. Entrance near water pool...remember, careful.”

“Alright...I’ll be careful,” Jack whispered with a nod. His eyes narrowed slightly against the harsh sunlight as he examined the pool of water in question. Sure enough, it seemed as though a large quantity of sand close to it had been displaced, and he could just barely make out the outline of what looked like some sort of handle attached to a nearly-hidden door.

_There…_ he thought. _That’s where the entrance is…_

The young sprite turned back momentarily to face Kyro and Rivahn, giving a nod and a slight smile. “Thank you,” he said softly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, with the children safe and the bandits in chains.”

“Good,” Kyro responded with a nod. He and Rivahn stayed crouched just out of sight at the edge of the oasis while Jack began to slowly creep forward.

_I don’t sense anyone else’s presence…_ he thought idly as he carefully moved. _It does not seem as though any of them are above ground currently...I’ll only have to worry about being spotted once I get underground._

The boy reached the pool of water and crouched down, fingertips lightly brushing the sand from the now-visible wooden door covering what was no doubt a tunnel leading to the bandits’ lair.

_And either way...even if they spot me…_

Jack carefully opened the door and slid into the tunnel, resealing the entrance behind him and plunging his world into darkness.

_...they won’t stand a chance against my magic._


	5. The Bandits' Hideout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, I didn't miss another update!
> 
> ...kind of. You see, due to difficulties in getting these chapters done on time because I have school through most of the week, I've decided to move my schedule so that this story will update every Sunday instead, giving me an extra weekend day to finish things up! Hopefully it'll help me get these chapters up when they're supposed to be!
> 
> Also, random side note: you might have noticed that in every odd numbered chapter, there's a book excerpt (kind of like what I did in the original RFL with having there be a flashback in every even numbered chapter), and up until now, they've all directly tied into the story with Jack actually reading the book in question. That won't be the case each time, like in this chapter. The book excerpt will always be relevant to what's going on, but it won't always be directly incorporated into the story! Just thought I'd clear that up! (Also, the author's name will always be either a reference or some sort of pun...see if you can get them all ;)

_The Art of Stealth_

_By Saul Idsnek_

_When you’re in enemy territory, hiding from a pursuer, or simply just in a place where you shouldn’t be, the most important thing to do is maintain a strict, constant silence. You must not breathe deeply, nor cough, nor sneeze. Wearing loose-fitting clothing that easily shifts or carrying equipment that clanks or rattles is also detrimental to complete silence. If you must move around, be sure to maintain a certain stance (See diagram on Page 12) in order to keep your weight balanced so you can avoid stepping heavily._

_Never forget to painstakingly consider your enemies’ lines of sight. Stay close to the shadows (wearing dark clothing is preferable while doing this) to avoid detection. Remain low to the ground and carefully listen for any activity before turning a corner. Constantly check behind you to ensure that you are not being followed. If applicable, travel on higher ground than anyone who might be looking at you. Trees, rafters, rooftops, or cliffs also work well._

_Increased speed is almost never worth risking alerting your enemy to your presence. Move slowly and deliberately as long as you are not in immediate, life-threatening danger. This will decrease your likelihood of accidentally bumping into something or knocking an object over. Running creates more sound than walking or crawling ever could._

_If you know of any cloaking magic, use it. Anything that makes it harder for you to be detected will be nothing but beneficial to you. Spells or potions that induce invisibility, camouflage, soundlessness, transfiguration (perhaps into a small animal to sneak around or an inanimate object for hiding purposes), or various illusions are boons that are not to be taken lightly. Not many are able to possess the gift of magic, so if you are one of the lucky ones, take full advantage of your abilities._

_It is not unwise to carry a weapon with you while traversing dangerous territory. Preferably, something long-ranged, such as a bow or offensive magic. Throwing knives are also useful due to their capability of performing at both long and close range. However, only use violence under very specific circumstances. Before taking action, ask yourself two things:_

_One: Am I absolutely unable to continue forward without inducing bloodshed?_

_Two: If my actions alert other enemies, will I realistically be able to either evade them or fight them off?_

_If you cannot answer affirmatively to either of these questions,_ **_DO NOT ENGAGE._ ** _Avoid taking absurd risks and instead stick to the shadows to preserve your life._

**()()()()**

Navigating through total darkness, though difficult for most other races, was of no issue to a snow sprite. Built specifically for the long winters of Iskald, in which the sun set early and rose late, sprites could use a small fraction of their magic to illuminate their own eyes, allowing them to safely traverse a significantly darkened area. Jack, of course, was no exception. His snowflake-patterned eyes glowed a soft azure as he navigated the tunnel leading down into the bandits’ hideout, ensuring that there were no guards waiting to intercept him.

Admittedly, the resemblance to the entrance of the lair of the Nightmare King unnerved him. The dark, winding tunnels were just similar enough to send a shiver down Jack’s spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. Memories of panic attacks and nightmares flooded back to him, to the point where he was forced to temporarily stop moving in order to let his gradually quickening breathing even out.

_Calm yourself, Jack…_ he mentally scolded himself. _This is nothing like the fight with the Nightmare King...you’re going up against a group of non-magical amateurs...all you need to do is go in, freeze and tie them up, and get those children out of here...you’ll be fine…there’s no reason to panic..._

Once he had finally sufficiently relaxed (though he was still decidedly rather on-edge), the boy began moving once again, constantly internally reminding himself that he was not in any real danger. He was logically aware of this fact, of course--human bandits stood no chance against a fully-powered (and immortal to boot) snow sprite. Still, it was becoming increasingly obvious to him that an extreme discomfort in regard to underground spaces had developed within him since he and the other Guardians had stormed the Nightmare King’s lair.

Jack gritted his teeth slightly, glowing eyes narrowing in annoyance. _Why is this affecting me so much now…?_ he thought frustratedly as he moved, trying to ignore his shaking hands. _The “being underground” part of everything was never what bothered me about that ordeal...I suppose it merely...reminds me of everything…_

Indeed, he was finding it difficult to push back the old memories related to the den of evil. He remembered breaking down before entering the tunnel in the center of his destroyed home. He remembered needing to be blinded and deafened in order to make it through without panicking once more. He remembered learning the truth about the near-decimation of his race, as well as the fates of the snow sprite children-turned-Fearlings. He remembered watching the Nightmare King’s daughter’s life slip away before his very eyes. He remembered the searing pain in his chest when his staff was broken in half. He remembered the glittering amber eyes of Pitch Black, the Nightmare King himself, gazing triumphantly upon the weakened Guardians.

Most of all, he remembered being very, very afraid.

And though time had passed, much of that fear had stayed with him.

Jack abruptly shook his head to clear it of his own dark thoughts. _I have to stay focused…_ he thought firmly, clenching his fingers into fists to keep his hands from continuing to tremble. _Those children need me...I can’t let them down by sitting here and moping about the past…_

A few deep breaths later, he was off again, soon approaching the spot where the entrance tunnel widened out into the main area of the bandits’ hideout. As he drew closer, he reached a point where dim light began to stream its way into the tunnel. Jack allowed the glow to fade from his eyes as he slowed his pace, carefully creeping towards the end of the dark path. He kept low to the ground, using the shadows to his advantage, though he mentally wished he still possessed a hood to cover his reflective silver hair.

_Too late to worry about that now,_ he silently acknowledged. _Not that I’ll need to concern myself with stealth for much longer…_

Soon, he reached a spot that was as close as he could get to the main room without moving into the light. Crouching there for now, his eyes swept over as much of the area as he could see, careful to take in everything he could before making his move.

The first thing he noticed was that there were about a dozen Motorean children huddled together against the back wall, each one restrained with a thick length of rope. Jack’s heart almost immediately filled with sympathy for them--each one of them looked absolutely terrified. They all seemed to be about seven or eight years old, and though they were all uninjured, Jack knew that the confusion, fear, and uncertainty of what would happen next had to be taking a toll on them. Inwardly, Jack reminded himself to thank North for suggesting providing the children with blankets and stuffed toys upon rescuing them. From the looks of it, they would need all the comfort that they could get.

The young sprite reluctantly tore his gaze away from the children in order to look around the rest of the room. From what he could see, there were seven bandits present. Two of them appeared to be standing guard a few feet away from the children while three more were watching the final two argue heatedly. Their yelling was completely in Motorish, so Jack couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying, but he decidedly didn’t care all that much. It was likely that their argument had something to do with their kidnapping plan or their desire for ransom, and if Jack got his way, neither of those topics would be relevant for much longer.

He took a silent deep breath and tightened his grip on his staff, allowing a thin coat of frost to spread across its wooden surface. _Alright,_ he thought, eyes narrowing. _Time to act…_

In one swift motion, he flung himself out of the tunnel and into the bandits’ midst.

**()()()()**

It had been remarkably easy for Jack to incapacitate and restrain each and every one of the bandits in the lair. Once he had done so, he had freed the children, then called to Kyro and Rivahn to help him clear out the hideaway. In the end, the criminals were taken to prison and the children were given blankets and toys, then promptly returned to their immensely grateful parents.

From what Jack had heard, one of the bandits had actually managed to escape the guards’ grasps just before they had reached the prison, but Captain Terrah had assured Jack that the man would be caught once more without his help. Jack was a bit reluctant to leave the issue as it was without offering any help, but after a bit of convincing, he at last conceded that the city guards were perfectly capable of rounding up one rogue man.

As he was not due back in Soluna City for another few days, Jack decided to not leave Sahran until around noon the next day. The people in the city insisted on celebrating the return of their children that night, and so the young Guardian, while still not entirely accustomed with interacting with so many strangers at once, politely accepted the thanks offered to him. He was also offered a number of gifts and rewards, but respectfully turned most of them down, on account of the fact that he was merely doing his job and wasn’t asking anything in return. The one gift he did accept, however, was a messily-drawn “thank you” card collectively made by the children he had saved, which was paired with a small stuffed bear--an extra toy from the heap that North had sent with him.

His heart had nearly melted right then and there when they had all shuffled up to present it to him. There was no possible way that he could have refused such a gift.

Soon, it came time for him to saddle up Zephyr and take his leave. When he did, he was seen off by a large crowd of people wishing him well. They called out in words he could not understand, but he could feel the gratitude radiating from them like a beacon, and the sensation warmed his heart and brought a smile to his face.

_This…_ he thought as Zephyr reached the edge of town. _This is why I’m a Guardian. To help people like these...to make them happy._

Smile never fading, he kicked Zephyr’s sides, and within moments, boy and stallion were once again streaking across the desert, only this time, they were on their way home.

**()()()()**

No more than an hour into their return trip, Jack came across a sight that caused him to quickly reign in Zephyr and jump off the horse’s back. He took a few steps forward, then his eyes widened as he confirmed what he had thought he had seen.

There was a person lying prone in the sand.

Jack quickly began to hurry over to them, but hesitated once he got close. Something felt...wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.

Gritting his teeth in frustration with himself, Jack quickly pushed the strange thoughts away and called out, “Are you alright!?” He had no idea if the person would even understand a word he said, but figured that it was worth a try.

There was no answer.

Jack gulped nervously and came closer. He couldn’t tell if the person was even breathing, given that their entire body was covered in a long cloak. For a moment, he feared the worst.

“Excuse me…?” he tried anyway. “Can...can you hear me…?”

There was a long beat of silence in which Jack held his breath in apprehension. Finally, however, there was a slight, masculine-sounding murmur from the figure, causing Jack to exhale in relief.

“Can you understand me at all…?” he asked as he came closer, kneeling right in front of the fallen man. “I’m afraid I don’t speak any Motorish, but...I’ll do my best to help if you--”

Suddenly, Jack’s words turned into a sharp gasp as the man suddenly jerked up and grabbed one of the boy’s wrists. There was a glint of silver from somewhere within the folds of the man’s cloak, and immediately afterwards, a searing pain shot through the palm of Jack’s left hand as the dagger pierced it, tearing an agonized scream from the boy’s throat.

At the sound of his rider’s pain, Zephyr spooked, whinnying frantically and rearing up on his hind legs. Wordlessly, the man produced another dagger and flung it at the terrified horse, just barely managing to graze the stallion’s flank. Before Jack could even think about doing anything, the white horse panicked even more, this time charging away to avoid being attacked again.

“Z-Zeph--!” Jack shouted, voice tight with pain, but he soon found that he had much greater problems than his runaway horse. Upon looking back at his attacker, the snow sprite saw that the man’s hood had fallen with the swiftness of his last movement. Jack’s eyes widened in horror.

The escaped bandit.

_O-Of course…_ Jack thought, uninjured hand already twitching in an attempt to form a blast of ice. _This is for revenge...he must have traveled this route last night and waited for me here...damn it...what kind of fool would venture into the blazing hot desert for this long just for a shot at vengeance!?_

Jack quickly lifted his hand to shoot his prepared ice blast, but faltered when the bandit ripped his dagger out of the boy’s other palm, creating a new wave of pain coursing through him. Jack had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out again, and before he could get his bearings in order to finish his attack, the bandit suddenly reached down and forcefully pulled at something around the sprite’s neck.

Jack’s heart nearly stopped as the object gave way, releasing its hold on his neck and allowing itself to be pulled away in the man’s grasp.

_The...the cooling amulet…_

The stifling heat hit Jack like a ton of bricks, forcing him down out of his kneeling position and onto his back in the sand. He felt every ounce of strength leave his muscles as his vision began to blur and his lungs began to constrict in the scorching, unbelievably dry air.

Through his increasingly clouded senses, Jack could just barely make out the man standing over him and growling what were surely a few Motorean expletives before spitting in the sand beside his prone form. Then, the bandit was gone, leaving nothing for Jack’s unfocused eyes to look at but the cloudless sapphire sky.

_D-Damn it..._ he thought dizzily, struggling against the tempting pull of unconsciousness. _A...a trap...how...could I have been...so...stupid…?_

Against his will, the boy’s eyes closed as the unbearable heat continued to sap his strength, robbing him of the coldness that his body needed to survive. Little by little, his consciousness slipped away, leaving his weakened form at the mercy of the blazing desert sun.


	6. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...someday I'll get this schedule thing right. Someday.
> 
> Sorry for the wait, school was being mean again! But now that I'm here, let's get right on with the chapter, shall we?

_ … _

_ … _

_ …”--ack! Ja--”... _

_ …”--at happened!? Ja--!”... _

_ … _

_ … _

_ …”W-Wait, who--!?”... _

_... _

_ …”...y-you’re...imposs--!”... _

**_Thwack._ **

_ …”--amn huma--”... _

_ …”--at about this one…? Is he--?”... _

_ …”--e...he is! L--”... _

_ …”--ow could this be…?”... _

_...“--on’t know...is he really a--”... _

_...“--ink so. Carefu--”... _

_ …”--eck his pulse...does his heart bea--?”... _

_ … _

_ … _

_ …”...he is alive.” _

**()()()()**

When Jack awoke, he could safely say that he had absolutely no idea where he was. Last he had known, he had been left for dead in the desert sun, enfolded by nothing but the coarse sand beneath him. However, even with his eyes still shut, he had the distinct impression that he had somehow ended up atop a bed, bundled in several ice-lined blankets.

Certainly a strange change of scenery.

Logically, his best assumption was that he had somehow been rescued from the desert, but by whom? He doubted he could have lasted more than a few hours in the stifling heat, and even if a random traveler had come across him by chance, how likely was it that they would have stopped to save a nearly-dead sprite?

Regardless, it seemed that, one way or another, help had come.

_ But… _ he thought dizzily, expression twitching into a pained grimace.  _ By whom…? And how…? _

He knew that the only way to answer his questions was to force his heavy eyelids open, but the thought of making even such a small effort in his current state turned his stomach. Despite the fact that he could sense his body temperature lowering to back to its proper frigid level, he was left both physically and mentally fatigued from the ordeal. Each of his limbs felt heavy due to his weakness, and his head continuously spun as his stomach was assaulted by waves of nausea. His only comfort was the fact that, thanks to the concoction Aster had given him, his skin was not burnt raw. Upon acknowledging this, however, his stomach twisted once more in a way that had nothing to do with his heat exhaustion.

_ The Guardians… _ The anxious thought was the first clear one that had come to his head thus far, yet it was not comforting in the slightest.  _ They expect my return soon...but I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious for. It could have been days at this point...if that’s the case, what will they have thought when I didn’t show up…? I’d try to get back to them as quickly as possible, but I doubt I’m fit to travel in this state, especially without a cooling gem...and… _ He stiffened.  _ And Zephyr...d-damn it...I hope he’s okay… _

Clenching his teeth together, Jack forced back the wave of apprehension and anxiety that threatened to overtake him.  _ Cross that bridge when you get to it, Jack… _ he mentally chided himself.  _ For now...getting up is the primary objective. _

Such an act was easier said than done, of course. It took him no less than three minutes to merely crack open his eyelids, and half a minute longer for his blurred vision to come into focus.

As far as he could tell, he was not in any immediate danger. Upon letting his dulled eyes flick around to take in what little of his surroundings was visible, he deduced that he was in a dimly lit, windowless room with several shelves filled with books and what looked like elixirs lining walls made of...glass?

_ No _ , he realized as his vision cleared further.  _ It’s too opaque to be glass...it must be...ice… _

Indeed, the walls (and allegedly the floor and ceiling as well) of the room had been formed with ice only just clear enough to reveal what lay behind them; nothing but solid rock. Which could only mean…

Jack’s heart nearly stopped.

_ I’m...underground… _ he thought, panic rising in his throat. Memories of the Nightmare King’s lair flooded back once more, just as they had in the tunnel leading to the bandits’ hideout. He felt sweat start to break out on his forehead as his breathing began to quicken, a sense of dread filling him.

_ N-NO! _ he told himself harshly, struggling to stay still as he fought to control his respiration.  _ Do  _ **_NOT_ ** _ panic now! You absolute fool...this isn’t the Nightmare King’s lair! You’re not under your old village! You don’t need to be afraid of being underground! It’s...it’s moronic! Stop! Get a damn grip on yourself and get up! _

His own harsh rhetoric helped to shake him out of his anxious thoughts, though not by any extravagant amount. His hands still shook as he forced his arms to move, then he attempted to push the rest of him into a sitting position, still fighting to move even when pain tore through his injured left hand and his vision went almost completely black.

Before he could accomplish his goal, however, a voice stopped him, and suddenly, there was a presence at his side.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, boy, easy!” the voice exclaimed as its owner placed his hands on both of Jack’s shoulders, gently pushing him back down (Jack refused to acknowledge how little effort it took whoever it was to counteract his frantic struggling) onto the bed. “Calm yourself...you are safe, I promise.”

Jack begged to differ, but did not attempt to speak, afraid that doing so would reveal the fearful tremor that had surely taken up residence in his throat. He closed his unfocused eyes tightly, hoping that he would regain the ability to use them properly before opening them again.

The unseen stranger let out a sigh of relief as the young sprite’s panic seemed to ease. “Good…” he said, removing his hands from the boy’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t advise trying that again...you’ll only hurt yourself if you move before you’re ready.”

Jack made a small noise of acknowledgement, but nothing more. Despite all of the questions swirling around in his mind, he was not even sure he could speak, even as he pushed as much of his panic and anxiety as he could away. His throat felt raw and parched, and he was certain that trying to talk would only bring him more pain.

The boy heard the stranger walk a few paces away, then come back a moment later. “Now that you’re awake, however, you should drink some water,” he said, as though having read Jack’s mind. “Careful, though, I’ll help you…”

Weakened and desperately thirsty, Jack had no choice but to let the man gently lift his head upright, then bring a cup to his dry lips and carefully tip some of its contents into his mouth. Though the shock of the sudden liquid stung his tender throat at first, the cool water soon soothed his pain quite effectively.

After a few slow sips of the much-needed liquid, the cup was removed from Jack’s mouth, and his head was lowered back to rest on the pillow beneath it. Though he still kept his eyes closed, partly in an attempt to avoid reminding himself about his current location, he managed to mumble out a weak,  _ “Th-Thank you…” _

The man gave a slight chuckle and replied, “It’s no problem. You certainly needed it.” His voice grew a bit farther away as he left Jack’s immediate bedside, but he continued speaking. “So...I suppose you’d like to know who I am and where you are, correct?”

_ “Y-Yes…” _ Jack answered softly, fruitlessly trying to keep his voice from shaking. He figured that he should try to acquire as much information regarding his situation as possible while he still could. He could only assume that the stranger was friendly based on his behavior towards him, but long-standing instincts from his days on the run warned him to be wary of sudden betrayal.

“Very well,” the man said. By the sound of clinking glass and sloshing liquids, it seemed as though he was fiddling with a few of the potions Jack had seen before, perhaps mixing them together, but still spoke despite his apparent preoccupation. “I’ll start with me; my name is Darreth Fletcher, and I’m a doctor.” He chuckled slightly. “Which is why you were entrusted to me once you were found.”

_ That makes sense… _ Jack mentally acknowledged.  _ If I had not been treated right away, I likely would have died...I still don’t know if I can trust this man, but...at least I’m lucky that there was a doctor present at all. _

“As for where you are,” Dr. Fletcher continued. “Well...I suppose that will take some explaining. We are, in fact, far below the Motorean desert, just past the point where the sand ends and the rock begins.”

Jack had to physically restrain himself to keep from flinching.

Oblivious to the boy’s anxiety, the doctor went on, “We are within an...underground city of sorts. A city of refuge, if you will. A veritable safe haven from the dangers and prejudices of the world above us.”

At ths, Jack frowned and opened his eyes, though he still felt too weak to turn his head in the doctor’s direction.  _ The “prejudices” of the world above us? _ he thought slowly, puzzling over the man’s phrasing.  _ That’s an...odd way to put it...I wonder what he means… _

As though sensing the question the young sprite wanted to ask, Dr. Fletcher chuckled and said, “Pardon me, my boy...I’ve been speaking as though you know what this place is for, and who its residents are. For indeed, there are many more of us than just you and me.”

Jack’s frown deepened and he coughed slightly, making an attempt to speak.  _ “M-More of…” _ he rasped.  _ “O-Of ‘us’...?” _

“Indeed,” the doctor replied, his knowing smile almost audible in his voice. “Us.” Jack began to hear footsteps approaching him as Dr. Fletcher made his way into the boy’s field of vision.

His eyes widened.

“As you can see…” the white-haired, blue-eyed man with elfin ears told him, smile never fading. “You and I are quite similar. And make no mistake, we are not the only ones left. Our numbers are relatively small, but there are enough of us to form a community in the city we refer to as New Iskald. Enough of us who escaped the fires and raids…” He nodded at the boy. “Enough snow sprite survivors...just like yourself.”

For indeed, to Jack’s endless shock and disbelief, that was what Dr. Darreth Fletcher was.

A snow sprite...just like Jack.


	7. Learning More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm...technically not late! Kind of threading the needle on this one, but...oh well, at least I got it up! Hope you enjoy!

_ The Fall of the Snow Sprites _

_ By Don Inflems _

_ Across the tsardom of Soluna, there exist many diverse races of people, some magical, some not. Among the ranks of the most powerful of the magical races are--or rather, were--those known as snow sprites. _

_ Snow sprites lived almost exclusively in Iskald and its closest surroundings due to their bodies’ requirement of cold climates. At one time, a large number of sprites populated the coldest region, living in harmony with the rest of the races present, humans especially. Now, however, only one has been confirmed alive. _

_ What caused such a drastic drop in the sprite population? On its surface, the answer is quite simple: the Nightmare King. Behind these words, however, lies a complicated, sinister plot that led to the fall of the race. _

_ Using his ability to manipulate fears and distrust, the Nightmare King turned the rest of the tsardom against the snow sprites, most specifically targeting the humans whom the sprites had previously considered friends. He convinced them that the snow sprites were demons plotting to overthrow the tsar and take control of the tsardom, sowing seeds of terror and paranoia within their minds. _

_ As a result of the Nightmare King’s manipulation, raids on snow sprite villages began, in which the attacking humans primarily used fire to weaken the wintery people. While the adults perished in the flames, the children were captured and delivered to the Nightmare King, who then extracted their magic and turned them into Fearlings. No one could have possibly predicted the gruesome fate that befell almost all of the snow sprites in Soluna. _

_ All...except for one. _

_ Over the course of several years, numerous snow sprite sightings were reported, starting in Central Iskald and steadily moving southward. At the time, it was believed that the sightings were of different sprites, as specific information on the individual’s appearance was limited, but it was recently revealed that instead, it was one boy making his way across the region, on the run from those who would have him share the same fate as his people. _

_ The boy in question, Jack Frost, the newly appointed Guardian of Fun, is allegedly the last snow sprite in existence. As far as anyone else in the tsardom is aware, there are no others. Rumors have been circling that, perhaps, others besides Mr. Frost might have survived the raids as well. However, as stated, they are only rumors. It is unknown whether or not there is any truth to these claims. _

**()()()()**

As desperate as Jack had been to question Dr. Fletcher further the moment he had discovered that the man was a snow sprite, his wish was not granted until a few days after the fact, given that the desert heat had rendered him far too weak to remain conscious and speaking for long periods of time. However, the moment he had recovered enough to sit fully upright in bed without passing out, as well as talk without experiencing a sharp pain in his throat, he seized the opportunity to begin asking the doctor all he could.

“So you said...you said this is an underground city populated by snow sprite survivors…?” Jack began tentatively, still unnerved by the “underground” factor of matters, but forcing himself to ignore his discomfort. “There...there are more of us…?”

Dr. Fletcher smiled and nodded in response. “As I said, my boy, there’s a community’s worth of sprites down here. Many of our people perished in those raids of six and a half years ago...but those of us who lived in the southernmost reaches of Iskald, as well as just past its borders, had a chance to escape, and so some of us managed to.” He paused a moment, then looked at Jack, eyebrows raised. “Which reminds me...where are you from? I’m afraid I can’t quite decipher your accent…”

“Most likely because it has become a blend of accents…” Jack mused, partially to himself. “I’m originally from Central Iskald, but I suppose that accent has faded somewhat during my time away from there.”

The doctor gave a wry smirk. “Well, I haven’t heard you say ‘’tis’ or ‘’twas’ yet, though your voice does still possess what I believe I remember as the Central Iskaldian lilt…”

_ Why does everyone find the Central Iskald accent so hilarious…? _ Jack thought dully. Instead of voicing his thoughts, however, he merely shook his head and continued.

“Yes, I...I believe my accent has melded with that typically spoken with in Soluna City,” he said. “I’ve been living there for the past five months, after all.”

Here, Dr. Fletcher raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Hold on…” he cut in, holding up a hand. “You’ve been living in the capital? For five months!? How...how did you manage to avoid being caught for so long?”

With a start, Jack realized that, with the man having lived underground for the past six and a half years, there was no possible way that Dr. Fletcher could be aware of recent events.  _ He doesn’t know I was made a Guardian... _ the boy silently acknowledged.  _ He doesn’t know I don’t need to hide my identity anymore… _

“Well,” the younger sprite began slowly, unsure of how exactly to phrase his explanation. “Technically speaking, I didn’t need to worry about getting caught…”

The doctor frowned, his confusion evident in his expression. “What do you--?”

Before he could finish, however, the door suddenly opened, and a young girl of about twelve or so--another snow sprite, Jack noticed--timidly entered, carrying a basin filled with water. As the attention in the room focused on her, she bit her lip nervously and said quietly, “I...I brought the water you asked for, Papa…”

Dr. Fletcher’s puzzled expression melted into a smile as he nodded fondly at the girl. “Ah, yes, thank you, Cynthia. Bring it over here.”

As the girl tentatively stepped forward to give him the basin, Dr. Fletcher turned to Jack and told him, “My boy, this is my daughter, Cynthia. Cynthia, this is--” He suddenly paused, then chuckled sheepishly. “Ah...I don’t believe I’ve ever asked you your name, now that I think about it.”

“Oh, um, it’s Jack,” Jack answered. “Jack Frost.” He gave a slight smile and waved to Cynthia, striving to look as non-threatening as he could to the shy child (not he was capable of much intimidation in his current state).

Despite his best efforts, however, Cynthia still awkwardly averted her eyes, merely mumbling out a nervous, “Hi…”

“You’ll...have to forgive her, Jack,” Dr. Fletcher said softly. “She’s been down here for just about half of her life. She’s not used to meeting new people.” He smiled. “But don’t worry; I’m sure she’ll come around soon enough.”

“Um...Papa?” Cynthia began quietly. “There’s more...Arios said he was coming to talk to you soon…he sounded angry...”

The doctor’s smile dropped once more, this time in favor of exasperation. “Of course he did…” he sighed, rubbing his forehead.

Jack’s dark eyebrows raised slightly. “Er...Arios?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side.

“My son,” Dr. Fletcher clarified. “And Cynthia’s older brother. He’s...a bit of a spitfire, you could say. Regrettably enough, us taking you in has riled him up quite a bit, it seems...don’t worry, his animosity wasn’t caused by you, but rather...the person who attacked you.”

“The bandit?” Jack asked, eyebrows furrowing. “What about him…?”

“A bandit, eh…?” the man mused, stroking his short beard. “That could cause trouble…” He shook his head. “The issue is that...well, he is human. A race known to show an admittedly large amount of prejudice towards us sprites in recent years...and my son is concerned because we have brought him down here as our prisoner.”

Jack frowned. “Your prisoner…? Why?”

“Unfortunately,” the man continued. “When a group of us rescued you, your attacker got a rather good look at who he was dealing with.” He sighed. “We cannot afford to let any word get out that we are still alive down here...if that was to happen, we would no doubt be searched for with the intent of further eradication. Thus, we were forced to hold him down here. Most of us are content to keep him with us as a prisoner, just so he can’t deliver information about us to the rest of the tsardom, but…” Dr. Fletcher’s expression hardened. “Others, Arios included, would rather see him killed.”

Despite how the end of the doctor’s statement unnerved him, Jack found himself unable to draw his focus away from something that had been stated at the start of the explanation. “Hold on…” he said slowly. “My attacker...was still there when I was rescued?”

The man nodded. “That’s how it seems, yes. I was not part of the rescue party myself, but I did see them bring you and the bandit into the city.”

“But...but that doesn’t make any sense!” Jack exclaimed. “The bandit...he left immediately after he attacked me...and I must have been lying there for hours...it’s impossible for him to have still been there…” He thought for a few moments. “Um...let’s backtrack for a moment here...how did you end up finding me in the first place?”

Dr. Fletcher didn’t quite seem to understand where Jack was going with all this, but he complied with the boy’s request, answering, “Well, a few days before we found you, we had noticed a large magical signature passing overhead. We have charms in place all over the city to stop our own magic from being detected, but we can still sense what’s going on outside. Now, we have since figured that the magic we sensed at first must have been yours, but at the time, we assumed that it was a large caravan crossing the desert, all decked out in cooling gems. They radiate similar magic to ours, so it’s often hard to distinguish the two.

“A few days later, during what I assume was your return trip--I’m curious as to why you needed to cross the desert in the first place, but I suppose that story can wait for a bit--we felt the magical signature again, only this time, it stopped instead of moving on. Now, we initially thought it was the same caravan merely stopping for a rest on the way back to where it had come from...at least, until the magic’s power began to fade, as though its owner was dying. Considering the fact that cooling gems obviously cannot die...the only other explanation was that, somehow, some way, there was a fellow snow sprite up there that was in dire need of rescue.

“As such, a rescue team was sent to recover you, and, thanks to your impressively strong magic, the team was able to track you down quite quickly. However, you were not the only one they found. They also came across--and brought down here--a sprite-bred white stallion, which I assume belongs to you--”

_ Zephyr,  _ Jack thought as he gave a relieved nod.  _ He’s alright… _

“--and a young man standing over you, believed to have been your attacker.”

“Dr. Fletcher,” Jack said suddenly, looking up at the man. “You said you saw us being brought down...could you describe the man for me?”

“Sure thing, my boy,” the doctor replied. His expression became thoughtful. “Let’s see...he was a fairly young lad, though likely a handful of years older than you. If I remember correctly, he had dark red hair, was dressed in a gray cloak, and wore an earring in his left ear.”

Jack’s eyes widened.

“Though, certainly, the most surprising thing about him was that--”

_ No...it couldn’t be… _

“--the young man had a quiver on his back, but he was missing his left arm.”

_...Simon… _


	8. The Imprisoned Archer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry about the lack of an update last week...though I actually have a different excuse this time. I really just wasn't feeling well last week, to the point where I couldn't even concentrate on writing. I feel much better now, though, so...let's get on with the chapter!

It took Jack several moments to recover from the shock that came with learning that the one-armed archer he knew quite well had been taken captive on assumption that he had been the one to attack the young sprite. Once he had done so, however, he wasted no time in attempting to rectify the false suppositions.

“Wait, Dr. Fletcher, I’m afraid that you’re wrong about that,” he said quickly. “The archer is not the man that attacked me. My assailant was a Motorean bandit with a vendetta against me. The man you described is, instead, an acquaintance of mine.”

He thought it best to refrain from fully describing his and Simon’s history. Such a tale was a bit too complicated to delve into at the present time.

Dr. Fletcher, meanwhile, looked shocked. “You...mean to tell me that you’ve acquainted yourself with a human? In this day and age? Does he...does he know what you are?”

Jack nodded in response. “He does. And, while it is true that he once did hold that fact against me, he no longer does. It was not too difficult to convince him that I was not a demon, actually. All it took was some talking.”

The doctor still seemed stunned, but before he could question the boy further, the door opened once again, though far more forcefully this time. In stormed a young man with straight silvery hair, piercing cobalt eyes, and pointed ears--yet another snow sprite.

_ I suppose I should stop being so surprised… _ Jack thought dizzily as he blinked away his look of awe.  _ But to be around my own people again...it’s nothing short of surreal. _

“You. Newcomer,” the young man said sharply, addressing Jack. “Are you well enough to stand?”

Jack blinked in surprise, taken aback by the other sprite’s harsh tone. “Er…”

“Arios, what is the meaning of this?” Dr. Fletcher interrupted, expression hardening.

The young man, Arios, rolled his eyes and heaved an exasperated sigh. “There’s no time for this, Father,” he said, arms crossed. “The prisoner hasn’t shut up since his eyes first opened. When we tried interrogating him, all he would say is ‘No, it’s a misunderstanding!’ or, ‘Get Jack! Jack will explain!’” Arios gave Jack another sharp look. “I suppose ‘Jack’ is referring to you, correct?”

“Yes…” Jack said carefully, unwilling to further upset the already-aggravated sprite. “That’s me.”

“That’s what I thought,” the man said with a curt nod. “As such, I need you to come with me”

“That’s not going to happen, Arios,” Dr. Fletcher argued, standing up and turning to fully face his son. “In case you have forgotten, Jack was  _ left for dead in the desert _ only a few days ago. He’s only just reached the point where he can sit up for long periods of time. He’s not ready to get up and walk around!”

Arios scoffed. “Then he’ll simply have to be carried. Father, we must get to the bottom of this! The human claims to be acquainted with this boy...it is essential that we determine whether or not ‘Jack’ here plans on betraying us.”

Jack’s eyes widened in surprise. “Betraying you!?” he exclaimed incredulously. “Why would I do something like that!?”

“We’ll just have to find out, now won’t we?” Arios growled, his tone thoroughly laced with distrust. “Now, up. We need you in order to continue the interrogation. The crippled archer won’t talk unless you’re present, it seems.”

“Arios, that’s enough--” Dr. Fletcher began.

“Hold on,” Jack interrupted, holding up his uninjured hand to stop him. “...fine. I’ll come with you.”

Arios did not seem surprised, as though he had intended to secure such an outcome by any means possible from the beginning. He gave a short nod and replied, “Good. Now get up.”

“Wait, Jack,” the doctor cut in, alarmed. “You don’t need to do this quite so soon. No matter what Arios says, the situation is not as dire as he is making it sound. We can wait a while longer until you’re strong enough to safely make the walk.”

Jack simply shook his head. “No, really, it’s alright,” he insisted. “I’m feeling much better than I was...I can manage a short walk.”

_ It especially helps that I’m an immortal Guardian now… _ he added privately.  _ They might not know it, but I’m capable of recovery that’s much quicker than anything I could manage before acquiring my immortality… _

“Besides,” the boy continued aloud. “I think it would be best to clear up any misconceptions about Simon--the archer, that is--as quickly as possible. I assure you...he is of no threat to you.”

If anything, Jack’s words only seemed to strengthen the distrust in Arios’ eyes and the uncertainty in those of his father. Finally, however, Dr. Fletcher relented, sighing and saying, “Alright, if you’re sure...still, allow me to accompany you in order to ensure your wellbeing.”

Though Arios visibly rolled his eyes, Jack nodded. “That’s fine,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll be alright, but I suppose there’s no harm in being careful.”

“Okay, then…” Dr. Fletcher took a deep breath and turned his head slightly to look a little ways behind Jack. “Cynthia--” Jack blinked in mild surprise; he had nearly forgotten that the quiet girl was there. “--wait here for a bit, alright? We’ll be back soon.”

Cynthia quietly nodded, merely murmuring her affirmative response as she sat down to wait. In that moment, Jack felt his heart constrict a small amount.

_ Her demeanor… _ he silently thought.  _ It’s so much like Livi’s when I first saw her again… _

Inwardly, he cringed, hoping that his discomfort did not show on his face. Remembering his sister as the shy, uncertain,  _ scared _ child that kept almost silent in the wake of her suffering only brought him anguish. He forced back the memories, reminding himself that none of the children in this hidden colony had been forced to undergo what Olivia Frost and so many others had.

_ And we saw to it that no more would ever fall victim to that sort of fate again… _ he thought, taking a deep but silent breath.  _...the Nightmare King has been chained. He can no longer hurt the children of this tsardom. _

Thankfully, none of the other occupants of the room seemed to notice Jack’s momentary lapse of calm, and he was able to proceed as though nothing had been amiss. While Arios waited impatiently by the door, Dr. Fletcher carefully helped Jack out of bed, mindful of the boy’s injured hand and ready to support him should he grow dizzy and fall.

“I apologize on behalf of my son,” the doctor whispered to Jack, so low that Arios could not possibly overhear. “Being forced into hiding has made him...well, bitter, to say the least. He means well--he truly does wish to protect everyone here in New Iskald, but he can certainly be quite...brash.”

“Understandable…” Jack murmured in response, grunting slightly as he attempted to work his legs back into a usable condition. “Though believe me when I say, you have nothing to fear from Simon and me both. We do not intend to bring any of you harm.”

“Personally, I do believe you…” the doctor replied. Then, he sighed slightly. “Though...some of the others might be much more difficult to convince.”

“Well, I hope to convince them all the same,” Jack answered determinedly.

_ Besides… _ he thought anxiously.  _ From what little I’ve learned about this society, it seems that they are a very careful group of people. Unless Simon and I can earn their complete trust...I’m not so sure they’ll allow us to leave without resistance… _

“Hurry up,” Arios snapped, abruptly pulling Jack from his grim thoughts. “We don’t have all day, you know.”

As much as he wanted to respond with a sarcastic retort, the young Guardian held his tongue. There was still much to explain and convince the other sprites of, so he figured that it would be best if he tried to stay on their good (or at least neutral) side.

With that, Jack and the two male Fletchers exited the recovery room and made their way into the dimly lit, ice-lined (and underground, Jack noted with a gulp) hallway. When they reached a splitting pathway, the boy’s sensitive elfin ears picked up the beginnings of a low din down the hall to the right, leading him to believe that that was where the main part of the city known as New Iskald lay. The doctor and his son, however, led him instead down the left hall, which seemed even dimmer than the one they had just come from.

They soon approached a door that was carved entirely from ice and was done up with several heavy locks. Two guards stood by it, one on either side, their faces impassive even as the three of them approached. Jack couldn’t help but shift uneasily. Though Jack considered himself rather tall for a sprite, both of the guards easily outperformed him in the height department. They were still slender and lithe, as most sprites were, but Jack could feel immense magical power radiating off of them in waves.

_ Their magic is stronger than that of most sprites… _ he thought nervously.  _ I’m not surprised these two were chosen as guards… _

At a sharp order from Arios, one of the guards turned and undid each lock holding the door shut. Then, both of them silently stepped aside, allowing Jack, Arios, and Dr. Fletcher to enter what Jack now realized was a cell.

The cell was dark, only dimly lit by a few glowing balls of frost that floated in each corner, but Jack could see well enough once he allowed his eyes to begin to glow. The room, also ice-lined, would have been empty, if it hadn’t been for the slumped figure sitting up against the back wall.

Dr. Fletcher scowled at his son, hissing, “Arios, did the council not agree to grant him better treatment than this?”

Arios shrugged impassively. “That agreement was only to apply if he did not resist. He did, in fact, resist, so he was punished.”

_ Punished indeed… _ Jack agreed inwardly, eyebrows furrowing with concern as he took a few steps forward to get a better look at the young man on the ground.

As far as he could tell, Simon had not been hurt badly, though he did notice that a bandage had been wrapped around his head. He was, however, chained to the wall by the wrist, which was forcefully situated above his head and was visibly shivering in the low temperature of the icy cell. The archer had been deprived, not only of his weapons and supplies, but also of his usual thick, gray cloak, exposing his body to the cold and also showcasing the empty, tied-off sleeve where a left arm would normally be.

“Arios, this is ridiculous!” Jack heard Dr. Fletcher whisper harshly somewhere behind him as the younger sprite continued moving forward. “You can’t keep going behind the councilmembers’ backs like this!”

“As a matter of fact,” Arios retorted. “Councilmembers Ferran and Sera wholeheartedly agreed with my stance on this matter. I have their full permission.”

“The permission of only two out of five councilmembers means nothing, and you know that,” the doctor growled. “You need a majority, and I know for a fact that neither Rayla, Shiro, or I would condone this.”

Jack frowned slightly at the apparent animosity between father and son, but shook his head and tuned the two of them out.  _ That’s something to worry about another time… _ he mentally told himself.  _ Simon comes first for now. _

The boy fully approached the chained archer and knelt down in front of him. “Simon…?” he asked quietly.

It took a few moments, but soon, Simon shifted his position slightly, eventually lifting his head to meet the young Guardian’s glowing blue gaze. He hesitated for a second longer, seemingly using that moment in order to confirm Jack’s identity, then allowed his shoulders to slump in some form of relief.

“Ah...about time you got here, Jack,” he rasped, a wry grin making its way onto his face. “Though I can’t say I’m exactly comfortable right now...mind calling off your friends so we can talk more civilly?”

 


	9. Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Gah, I'm so sorry I'm this late...two weeks ago, I had a busy school week, then a Set it Off concert that Saturday (which was AWESOME by the way! My friend and I ran into half the band in Chick-fil-A before the show, it was great XD), so I didn't have time to write this chapter, and then last Wednesday I got sick with a really bad cold that lasted about a week, so I was too sick to function for a while. But...I'm back! So let's get right to the chapter, shall we?

_Interrogation Regulations_

_New Iskald Council_

**_Procedure:_  **

  * __All five councilmembers must be present to observe an interrogation, though only one shall carry it out. The rest should interfere only if they feel that the proper protocol is for any reason being ignored or forgotten.__


  * _Treat the subject civilly, no matter their alleged crime. Force will only inspire resistance, and shall only be used to subdue a subject that violently resists of their own accord._


  * _Begin with building a basic profile of the subject, consisting of their full name, age, occupation, place of origin, and whatever other information might be considered relevant or useful._


  * _Ask them calmly about their alleged crime or transgression. Aim to discern their motive, further intentions, and, of course, whether or not they are actually guilty._


  * _Regardless of the supposed crime’s severity, treat all subjects equally. Do not immediately assume guilt, nor ask questions that imply as such. Keeping relations peaceable increases the odds of accurate information._


  * _Should the subject turn out to be guilty, begin to probe for further information regarding the crime. Be sure to especially focus on the possible existence of accomplices that may not have been caught in order to avoid further action taken by the criminals._


  * _In the event that the interrogation involves a non-sprite subject that has found the city by some means, slightly different steps are to be taken. Rather than questioning them about a specific crime, ask them about their purpose for being here, whether others know where they have gone, and what they plan to do with the knowledge of this place that they have required. If the subject in question is found to be untrustworthy and dangerous to the city’s secrecy, it is wisest to refrain from allowing them to return to the surface._



 

**()()()()**

“Name?”

“Simon Basil.”

“Age?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Occupation?”

“Hunter.”

“Place of origin?”

“Tyrlark. A village in Southern Iskald.”

Jack watched silently as the interrogation proceeded directly in front of him, nerves growing with every word spoken. With the help of Dr. Fletcher, he had, thankfully, been able to convince Arios to begrudgingly let Simon out of the cell, return his cloak, and take him into a far less dismal interrogation room. He had even managed to acquire permission to sit in the room during the questioning as well, in order to ensure that no harm would befall the unfortunate archer.

Still, he was uneasy. He had learned that the name of the man performing the interrogation was Ferran, one of the “councilmembers” that Arios had earlier mentioned--those that had agreed with his assertion that Simon must be locked away. Jack sincerely hoped that this would not lead to unfair (and possibly fatal) bias against Simon. The other four members of the aforementioned council also appeared to be present, two men (one of them being Dr. Fletcher) and two women, though they sat towards the back of the room, keeping silent as they too observed the interrogation. Jack prayed that the presence of the three that had wanted to treat the archer fairly would counteract any injustice against him.

For the time being, however, there was nothing he could do except sit, wait, and desperately try to collect his thoughts. The boy’s head still spun with the whirlwind of numerous shocking events he had experienced in a comparatively short amount of time, so, despite everything, he was somewhat relieved that he had at least gained a chance to slow down and sort through it all.

_So…_ he mused silently with a soft exhale. _What have I learned so far…? Firstly, of course, the overarching discovery is that, underneath the sands of the Motorean desert, there lies a whole community of escaped snow sprites...something I never would have thought possible. It’s still so...so surreal...to discover that after all this time, I’m not the only one left after all…_

Jack shook his head very slightly to clear it, then let his thought process continue elsewhere. _Now, from what I’ve gathered, the people that populate this area are from places south of my old home. The Nightmare King seemingly started his plot in the north and worked his way down, giving the sprites of the southernmost regions time to escape. They likely then regrouped somewhere south of Soluna City, and--most likely acquiring cooling gems or other potions and spells with similar effects--made their way into the desert, where they knew no one would search for them. I highly doubt all of them would have survived the journey...but evidently, enough did to form a small city beneath the sand._

_They used magic to tunnel their way down, creating walls out of impenetrable ice in order to keep the sand from caving in and crushing them. Though I can’t fill in the blanks regarding the rest of the city without seeing it for myself, I imagine every room and tunnel looks at least relatively similar._

_Judging by the existence of blankets and clothing made of natural fibers, as well as the obvious requirement for food, I would imagine they found some way to bring some livestock and perhaps raise crops down here...impressive for sprites that emanate coldness. Heavy magic was likely used by someone who dabbles in charms and spells other than the standard winter magic we are born with._

_As far as I’ve gathered to this point, the issue of leadership and legal matters has been resolved with the existence of a five-person council consisting of Dr. Darreth Fletcher and four other individuals whom I have only heard referred to as Ferran, Sera, Shiro, and Rayla. However, it seems as though relations within the council are strained due to differing opinions of outsiders...and the way Arios talks combined with how his father responds to him suggests that Arios desires more power than his current station grants, so he uses the two councilmembers that share his views, Ferran and Sera, to get his way. Meanwhile, Dr. Fletcher, Shiro, and Rayla resist him, seeing as he is not part of the council and should therefore not assert as much influence as he is trying to._

Jack sighed silently, bringing a hand to his forehead to rub it in exasperation. _It seems I’ve stepped into quite the civil mess...and I haven’t even seen the rest of the sprites in this city yet, so for all I know, they could be divided in much the same way. Which of course, might not bode well for Simon…_

_Speaking of Simon, I suppose he only was taken down here because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He told me that he was heading to Motoraus a couple of days after my trip began...we traveled the same trail, so he must have found me on his way to Sahran and stopped to try to help. While he was standing over me, the sprites that sensed my power above them must have found us and assumed that he had been the one to attack me, so they captured him and took him down here alongside me._

_While he was made a prisoner, I was given to the resident doctor, Darreth Fletcher, to be nursed back to health. He was most likely aided by his timid daughter, Cynthia, while his son, Arios, dealt with Simon. Then, once I woke up, Dr. Fletcher told me about how I had been rescued by my own kind, and explained the existence of the underground--ugh...I still shudder to acknowledge that part of things...still, I mustn’t lose myself to fear...I’m fine…--city known as “New Iskald.” Soon, after Cynthia entered and brought up her brother, I learned that Simon had been taken prisoner, and that I was to go to him, as he had been asking for me, likely because he recognized that a community of snow sprites would treat one of their own well, and I would be sure to vouch for his innocence with a higher chance of being believed. Then, of course, I went to the cell, protested his harsh treatment, and...here I am, watching him get interrogated about his intentions regarding the newfound knowledge that a snow sprite community still exists here. I think that about covers all that I now know..._

Jack frowned. _Except...there are some things that I knew before that I have yet to tell the people down here. I told Dr. Fletcher that I’ve been living in Soluna City for some time now, but I kept getting interrupted before I could tell him everything. None of these people know that I have become a Guardian...and none of them know that the surface world will be more accepting towards them should they return, due to the knowledge about the Nightmare King and his plots becoming rapidly widespread. I have to tell them...otherwise, they might not let Simon or even me go home._

_I understand why, of course...they’ve been hiding for years and are reluctant to risk discovery that they believe could get them killed. I was the same way...it took me weeks to finally stop reaching back for a nonexistent hood to hide my face from the crowds. Even now I know that there are some people who haven’t quite been convinced that snow sprites really are not evil beings. But either way...progress has been made, and our race is no longer in imminent danger. Though they may not believe me at first, I must convince them of this…_

The young Guardian gulped, shifting nervously in his chair. _Otherwise...Simon and I might be trapped down here for a long time…_

His thoughts finally somewhat collected in comparison to the wild mess of emotions and questions he had previously been subjected to, Jack took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the interrogation. It seemed as though it had continued going relatively smoothly while his mind had drifted, and, as far as he could tell, Ferran was now attempting to ascertain whether or not Simon had malicious intent towards the sprite he had been found kneeling over (Jack himself, obviously) or any of the others in New Iskald.

“So, Mr. Basil,” Ferran was saying, cerulean eyes narrowed into slits as he laced his fingers together on the table in front of him. “What you are saying to me is that, despite being discovered kneeling over the unconscious body of Mr. Frost here with weapons on your person, you did _not_ bear any ill will towards the boy, nor did you injure him in any way?”

Jack noticed that Simon seemed to be becoming increasingly frustrated and impatient as the questioning dragged on, but to his credit, the archer managed to, for the most part, keep himself calm and collected as he answered, “Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying. Jack is an acquaintance of mine; I have no intention of hurting him, nor any others of his kind.”

_He’s come a long way from our first face-to-face meeting five months ago,_ Jack silently acknowledged. _Back then, he was ready to shoot me right through the heart because of what I was...granted, I suppose that that was exactly what he did, once the Fearling took control of him, but that’s beside the point. I’m...just glad the protective spell on me saved my life…_

“Additionally,” Simon continued, jolting Jack back out of his wandering thoughts. “As you can see, I’m not exactly in possession of the, ahem, standard amount of limbs a person usually requires...I would think it difficult for me to physically overpower Jack in a desert that holds no trees to hide amongst. I’m an archer, a hunter by trade. I use a combination of my bow and stealth in order to fell my targets. If I had really wanted to hurt Jack, I would have shot him from a distance rather than attempted to get up close and stab his hand.”

“Hm…” Ferran mused, studying the young man carefully. “You make an interesting argument, to be sure, but I’m afraid that, unless you can provide solid proof, we must still hold you under suspicion.”

Simon’s emerald eyes narrowed. His gaze shifted from Ferran, to the councilmembers behind the interrogator, then finally to Jack, sitting off to the side. A sigh escaped the red-haired man’s lips as he leaned back in his chair and looked dully at Ferran. “Alright, then,” he said. “If you don’t believe me, then how about you ask Jack himself?”

Jack stiffened slightly as all eyes in the room landed on him. He quickly straightened up in his seat and cleared his throat, painfully aware of all six expectant gazes directed his way. “He...he’s right,” he said quickly, looking over at Ferran specifically. “Simon was not the man that attacked me. I was attacked by a Motorean bandit with a grudge against me...Simon merely found me after the fact, just as you all did.”

Ferran arched a dark eyebrow. “Then you are also confirming Mr. Basil’s claims that you are, in fact, acquaintances? That you do not believe he would ever plot to hurt you?”

Jack nodded firmly. “Yes,” he answered. “He is innocent...you can be sure of that. He does not intend to harm me or any of you.”

Suddenly, the younger of the two female councilmembers in the back abruptly spoke up. “How can we know that for sure?” she asked sharply, her cobalt eyes narrowed in suspicion. “For all we know, you could be a traitor in league with the human, and you both intend to reveal our secret to the world!”

“Calm yourself, Sera,” the other woman, likely Rayla, chided, holding up a hand to silence her companion. “We have no proof of these claims.”

“Yes, but we have no proof to the contrary, either,” Ferran pointed out. “These two are complete strangers...they could be dangers to us.”

_Great…_ Jack though exasperatedly. _Now I’m under suspicion as well...this just got a whole lot more difficult…_

“Um, actually--” he began aloud, but was quickly drowned out as Sera spoke up again.

“Ferran’s right!” she insisted. “We’ve been hiding under here for over six years, undisturbed by anyone, and then suddenly, we get two newcomers in our midst both in the same day? It’s suspicious, to say the least!”

“Hold on, you don’t have to--” Jack tried again, but was interrupted once more.

“Has it ever occurred to you that you might simply be letting your paranoia get the best of you?” the remaining councilmember, Shiro, spoke up, arching an eyebrow in Sera’s direction. “Immediately assuming guilt is not the way we do things around here, and you know it.”

Sera scowled slightly in response. “That’s not the point, Shiro! We--!”

_“HEY!”_

The room quite suddenly went silent as each occupant’s attention once more shifted over to Jack, who had stood up and shouted in order to finally be heard. Once he had their attention, however, he allowed himself to sit down once more, lest his tired body decide it wanted to start refusing to support him.

“...listen to me,” Jack said, looking around at each of the councilmembers. “I know I have not exactly done anything to prove myself trustworthy to you, but...please hear me out. You need to know...snow sprites don’t need to fear for their lives anymore. I’ve been accepted into society...and I’m sure others would be too.”

“...accepted?” Ferran questioned after a long silence. “You expect us to believe that a snow sprite had been _accepted_ in this day and age? After everything that happened six years ago!?”

“I do,” Jack said calmly. “Because, well...it’s the truth.”

“Jack…” Dr. Fletcher began slowly. “Do you...perhaps have proof that society has accepted you…?”

The boy took a deep breath and nodded. _I suppose I’ve got quite a bit of explaining to do…_ he thought.

“Well,” Jack said, raising his eyebrows. “Is my status as a Guardian of Childhood proof enough for you?”


	10. Providing Proof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry I couldn't update last week; had a lock-in at school in which I stayed up 'til 6 AM, so...had to take a while to recover from that. But here I am now, so let's get right to the chapter!

**** The atmosphere in the room was uncomfortably silent for a long period of time, though Jack had expected as much. After all, he was quite aware that his claims sounded ridiculous, especially to a room full of people that had been hidden and isolated for the past six years, unaware of the developments that had taken place above their heads.

_ Not to mention the fact that I came here practically delirious from heat exhaustion…  _ the boy silently acknowledged.  _ I obviously wasn’t in my right mind then...it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for them to believe that I’m still out of it. Either way...I must make them believe me, both for their sake, Simon’s, and mine. _

Dr. Fletcher was the first to break the silence, speaking slowly and hesitantly, as though unsure of himself. “A...Guardian of Childhood? You…?”

Jack nodded in response. “Yes. My name is Jack Frost...Guardian of Fun.”

“Uh...since when was there a fifth Guardian?” Shiro asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I’ve certainly never heard of such a thing,” Sera answered skeptically. “The boy’s obviously lying. Either that, or the desert sun got to his mind more than we previously thought.”

“I’m telling the truth!” Jack insisted. “And I know it sounds insane, but I swear to you that I haven’t gone mad from the heat. Five months ago, I was chosen to become the fifth Guardian of Childhood, by Tsar Lunar himself.”

If anything, this statement only increased the tension in the room.

“Please…” Ferran growled with a roll of his cobalt eyes. “Why would the Tsar suddenly decide to do a snow sprite any favors? It’s not like he did anything for our kind when our homes were being burnt to the ground!”

A frown made its way onto Jack’s face as he briefly hesitated to respond. In truth, despite his Guardianship, he too harbored a distinct resentment for the Tsar of Soluna, due to both his neglect for the snow sprites and more personal ties to Jack himself. The boy had never approved of the fact that the Tsar seemed to act as a puppet master from afar, nudging his Guardians into danger for him like pawns across a chessboard. He had always felt as though Tsar Lunar never truly cared about those he commanded, merely sitting back in his aloof, distant way as he plotted out the most “convenient” path for them (or rather, convenient for him) he could find.

And of course, the fact that the man had abandoned Jack and left him to fend for himself for six years in order to “build character” did not help in the slightest.

Still, rather than jump to agree with Ferran, Jack took a deep breath and continued, “I...must admit that I too feel little appreciation for the Tsar and what he has done...or what he has neglected to do. But even still...I  _ am _ a Guardian. And before you ask, yes, the people of Soluna know what I am. Some are still wary of me, it’s true...and I believe that it will take far more time for everyone--or at least almost everyone--to fully accept me. But I can assure you that there has been a start. I can now walk the streets of the capital without a hood to conceal my face, and I am no longer hunted. Granted, part of it may be because of my status...but I’m continuously working to prove that snow sprites are not the demons that everyone thought we were.”

“There’s still no way we can truly know that!” Sera cut in. “You could easily be lying through your teeth!”

“Sera’s right,” Ferran quickly agreed, crossing his arms. “Humans and others were quick to turn on us with absolutely no prompting. How can we trust that they’ve suddenly decided to change their minds after  _ quite literally attempting to destroy us!? _ ”

“Actually,” Jack responded, steeling himself for giving a long explanation. “Believe it or not, they  _ were _ prompted to turn on us.”

Rayla’s eyebrows creased as she looked at the younger sprite in confusion. “They were prompted?” she asked uncertainly. “Are you suggesting that we snow sprites somehow provoked--?”

“No,” Jack interrupted, shaking his head. That’s not what I’m suggesting at all. In fact, we were not to blame in the slightest, and even our assailants did not quite know exactly what they were doing.”

Shiro frowned. “Which means…?” he prompted.

“Well…” Jack exhaled. “It means that all of us were deceived from the beginning. The one responsible for it all...was none other than the Nightmare King himself.”

As expected, his words were met with wide eyes and a few gasps.

“The...Nightmare King!?” Dr. Fletcher exclaimed in surprise. “How is such a thing possible!?”

“It can’t be!” Sera protested firmly. “I told you, he’s lying!”

“Damn…” Shiro cursed, running a hand over his silvery hair. “If that’s true, then...this is all much worse than we could’ve imagined…”

“Hold on, hold one, allow me to explain,” Jack told them, holding up his hands to quiet the anxious council. “It is...quite a long story, actually, but I will do my best to explain quickly.”

With the councilmembers’ permission, Jack launched into the tale of the Nightmare King’s plans regarding the snow sprites, careful to be as concise as he could as he did so. Truthfully, it was still a difficult story for him to tell. Five months had evidently not been enough to temper the horror that had gripped him upon learning of the dark fates that befell the sprite children that had been captured by the evil specter. As such, he was forced to stop to calm himself several times throughout his narrative, but continuously fought to still his wavering voice and press on.

Thankfully, the adult snow sprites did not seem to mind. They too required time to process the extraordinarily dark things Jack told them, staying dead silent throughout his narrative. Even Ferran and Sera, though they both still seemed skeptical, appeared visibly disturbed by even the possibility that Jack was telling the truth.

“This...was all to stop a snow sprite from becoming a Guardian…?” Shiro asked incredulously once Jack was finished, eyes wide. “And...to create an army of Fearlings…out of our  _ children _ ...?”

Jack nodded gravely. “Indeed. Pitch Black manipulated the rest of the races in Soluna to turn against us for his own safety and personal gain. I won’t pretend any of our attackers were blameless in this...but the Nightmare King was the mastermind behind it all, until myself and the other Guardians bound him with magical chains in his own lair, completely imprisoning him and the rest of the Nightmare Army. With him gone...change should be entirely possible. Which means...you should certainly be able to return to the surface.”

Another silence fell over the room as the councilmembers exchanged uncertain glances. Rayla was the first to speak up and break the silence, saying softly, “We would...certainly like to believe you, Jack, but...we have no way of knowing that you’re telling the truth...there’s no proof…”

“Actually,” came a Simon’s voice suddenly from behind them, causing them all to start and turn in surprise. “There is proof.” The archer smirked wryly at the six sprites’ startled expressions. “And yes, by the way, I’m still here.”

“Cut the sarcasm, human,” Sera snapped impatiently, though Jack could tell that she was still discomforted by his story by the slight waver in her harsh tone. “Where exactly is your so-called ‘proof’?”

“Check the saddlebags you so kindly relieved me of upon my arrival,” Simon told them with a shrug. “There should be a book in one of them...it will confirm his story.”

Jack frowned slightly in momentary confusion, then his eyes widened in realization. Groaning slightly, he ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly as he gave Simon a sharp look. “...you  _ didn’t _ ,” he deadpanned. “You didn’t  _ actually _ buy that book.  _ Tell _ me you didn’t.”

The archer’s cheeky smirk all but confirmed Jack’s suspicions. “What’s the problem?” he asked innocently. “I found it a rather interesting read...and entertaining, at that.”

“That disgrace to literature was  _ not _ ‘entertaining,’” Jack insisted with a scowl. “Besides, what exactly is it supposed to prove? Practically none of it was even accurate!”

“That’s true, but even so, the fact that the book exists in the first place is proof enough that you’re telling the truth,” Simon pointed out. “It is part of a series that portrays, however inaccurately, the origin stories of each of the Guardians of Childhood. Given the fact that there was a book written about you...well, that would confirm your claims, now wouldn’t it?”

As reluctant as Jack was to use a children’s book of all things to prove his honesty, he was forced to admit that it was a decent idea on Simon’s part. The book’s contents would not be completely irrefutable, of course, but it was certainly better than the nothing they had been working with so far.

“Fine, then,” he sighed. “Let’s use it...hopefully it will convince you that I’m telling the truth.”

Each of the other snow sprites appeared rather confused by the conversation between the Guardian and the archer, but did not bother questioning their banter. Instead, Rayla merely stepped forward and nodded, saying, “Very well. We will look into the book in question.”

“And how do we know this won’t be a complete waste of time?” Ferran asked with a roll of his eyes.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Dr. Fletcher said firmly. “And that’s taking a look at the book, of course.” Ignoring Ferran’s mildly annoyed expression, the doctor then turned to face Jack, studying the boy carefully for a few moments.

Jack blinked, confused. “Er...is there something wrong, Dr. Fletcher?” he asked hesitantly.

The doctor frowned and replied, “My boy, I believe we might need to take you back to your room to get some rest. You’re beginning to look quite exhausted…”

Despite wanting to protest, Jack found himself unable to deny Dr. Fletcher’s observation. In truth, he had been gradually tiring ever since he had finished telling his story, but had hoped that blatantly ignoring the approaching fatigue would prevent him from showing signs of falling victim to it.

Evidently, he was wrong.

“I…” the young sprite sighed. “Fine, then...but only if Simon can come with me.”

“And why is that?” Ferran asked suspiciously. “Is there, perhaps, a reason you’re trying to end the interrogation early? Is there something you don’t want us to know after all…?”

“Or perhaps you’re planning on trying to escape and disclose our location?” Sera added, hands on her hips.

Jack opened his mouth to deny their accusations, but Shiro beat them to it, rolling his cerulean eyes in exasperation. “Honestly, what’s gotten into you two lately? Quit being so paranoid!” he told them. “We’ve got nothing else to ask and no reason to suspect these two as of right now. Besides, they’re going a couple rooms away, and haven’t even seen the majority of the city yet. How exactly are they supposed to plan an escape route of any sort?”

“Not to mention the fact that I’m...physically weakened at the moment,” Jack chimed in when Ferran and Sera said nothing.

“And the fact that I’m unarmed,” Simon added dully. He glanced briefly at his tied-off left sleeve. “...in more ways than one.”

Rayla nodded. “Right...I see no reason why we can’t let them rest for a bit while we examine the book, then discuss our next course of action. Darreth--” She turned to face Dr. Fletcher. “--could you escort them back to Jack’s infirmary room? And Shiro, please retrieve the book the two of them mentioned.”

Shiro nodded. “Sure thing, Rayla,” he replied.

“Very well,” Dr. Fletcher agreed as well. He then proceeded to help Jack stand up and head towards the door, gesturing for Simon to follow.

“‘Unarmed?’ Really?” Jack mumbled dully to the red-haired man once he had joined them.

Simon chuckled lightly in response. “Sometimes, Jack,” he said wryly. “One simply needs to learn how to laugh at themself, no matter the situation. Whether one is taken prisoner, loses an arm, or has a silly children’s book written about them--”

“Just shut up about the goddamn book.”


	11. The Cure for Timidity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Finally, didn't miss an update! Yay! Well, since I've got nothing else to say at the moment, let's just get right to the chapter!

**** _ Common Snow Sprite Afflictions and Treatments (Beginners’ Edition) _

_ By Mallory Kurall _

**_“_ ** **_Summer Snow_ ** **_”_ **

_ The sprite affliction commonly referred to as “Summer Snow” bears much resemblance to the common cold frequently suffered by humans. For instance, both illnesses involve congestion, sore throat, headaches, malaise, and other similar symptoms, and neither of them possess one definitive “cure;” only methods of easing the symptoms exist in current knowledge. _

_ However, there are a few key differences that set Summer Snow apart from the typical human cold. Most notably, Summer Snow has only ever been known to affect snow sprite children in the average age range of four to twelve years old, and an individual will usually not suffer the illness more than once in a lifetime. In addition, the malady is characterized by the child’s sudden inability to contain their magic, causing a layer of frost to cover their bodies throughout the entirety of the time in which they are infected. Said lack of control may also lead to sudden, uncontrollable magic spasms, most often taking the form of small ice blasts shooting off in various directions as projectiles. _

_ The most effective treatment for Summer Snow is to create a mixture composed of three crushed ice lily leaves and the juice of two freezeberries and have the child drink it before bed. This should usually be repeated for five to six days, at which point symptoms should begin to fade. If the illness persists, consult a doctor for possible diagnosis of a more severe-- _

**()()()()**

“Simon, if you read  _ one _ more passage from that book aloud, I swear to all things holy I will freeze your other arm off,” Jack grumbled, rolling onto his side and pulling his pillow over his head to cover his elfin ears.

The archer in question merely chuckled lightly in amusement at the sprite’s irritation. “Well, that’s a bit harsh,” he commented as he shut the medical textbook. “I hadn’t even finished reading that section.”

“You don’t need to,” Jack retorted dully. “Why are you even bothering with that book anyway? I didn’t take you as one to be interested in the medical field, especially that not even pertaining to your own kind.”

Simon shrugged and put the book to the side. “I was only trying to keep myself entertained. There’s not much else to do in an infirmary, unless you’d like me to start experimenting with medicine, which I’m sure would end well for no one.”

The boy shot him an annoyed look. “You could have at least ‘entertained yourself’ silently,” he pointed out. “No need to bore me with lackluster descriptions of childhood illnesses. I was having more fun pretending to rest, which is saying something.”

Simon grinned. “Well, it was amusing to me.”

Jack’s expression went dull. “...I miss the days when you were actually the serious one,” he muttered under his breath.

“Grumble all you want, but I know it’s just the heat exhaustion talking,” Simon replied with a chuckle. “I’ve seen your immature side several times before, don’t act like it’s not there.”

“At least I know not to bother people when they’re still recovering from almost dying,” Jack retorted. “I’d have thought that at least would be common sense.”

“Alright, fine, fine,” Simon finally relented, holding up his hand in a peaceable gesture. “I’ll stop.”

“Thank you,” Jack sighed, returning his pillow to the spot beneath his head where it belonged.

A beat of silence passed.

“...so...have you ever had this ‘Summer Snow’ thing?”

“Simon I swear to--”

“Yeah, yeah.” Simon rolled his eyes and waved him off. “Freezing my remaining arm off and all that. But I’m not trying to annoy you; I’m actually curious this time.”

After a moment’s pause, Jack heaved a deep exhale and rolled over onto his side to look across the room to where Simon sat, resigning himself to conversation rather than rest. “If you must know,” he began, eyes dull and half-lidded. “Yes, I have, when I was seven. Most snow sprite children get it at some point...or did your precious book not tell you that?”

“The sass isn’t necessary,” Simon deadpanned. “What, did that book about you suddenly cause you to harbor a vendetta against the written word in general?”

“No, only against the combination of the written word and yourself,” Jack responded, not missing a beat.

The archer merely shook his head, mockingly holding his hand to his chest. “I’m hurt, Jack, truly.”

“Good. Now you know how I feel.”

Simon gave a light scoff, unperturbed by Jack’s somewhat snappish contributions to their banter. “Well, perhaps you can distract yourself from your intense pain by answering a question of mine?”

“If I can summon the will to do so,” Jack replied, though his irritation was not completely sincere. He illustrated as such by adding, “What’s the question?”

“That part about ‘uncontrollable magic spasms,’” the archer began, drumming his fingertips on the cover of the book in his lap. “‘Ice blasts shooting off in various directions as projectiles’...what is that like? It sounds...rather dangerous, and I’m sure my left arm could attest.”

“Such a thing is actually not that bad in a village full of snow sprites,” Jack answered, forming a small snowflake on the tip of his finger. “We are immune to the effects of the cold, and any structures were built to sustain even the harshest of blizzards. The spasms really only hurt the child suffering the illness, and even then, none of the pain was ever permanent.”

Simon arched an eyebrow. “Your own magic can hurt you?” he asked curiously.

Jack nodded. “All magic aside from the brewing of potions requires a certain level of energy to perform, which is why you might see a mage pass out after a large-scale conjuration. With sprites, however, unlike naturally non-magical races such as humans like yourself, the magic we use is woven into our blood and souls themselves. We can learn more general forms of magic, just as anyone else can, but our ice magic is a part of us. Some say it is even tied to our life force, which is why over-exertion could be seen as life-threatening. In the case of Summer Snow, it is often the first time a sprite child uses significant amounts of magic--or rather, has it forced out of them--so, while the amount of expelled magic is not a danger to their lives, it does put a certain amount of fatigue on their bodies.”

“Hm...interesting,” Simon mused. “I never knew that. I, ah...never really looked into magic much, admittedly. But now that you say it, it does make sense.” He paused momentarily. “That illness must certainly have been rough, then…”

The young sprite merely shrugged in response. “Well, it wasn’t exactly my idea of fun,” he conceded. “Though it wasn’t all bad either. For one thing, it actually proved that I did possess magic…”

His red-haired companion now seemed confused. “What do you mean?” he asked, head slightly tilted to the side. “Why would you suspect otherwise?”

“Well...I was terrible at magic when I was younger,” Jack explained, running a hand through his hair. “Granted, I still emanated coldness, and I could fly better than anyone else my age, but...I couldn’t even summon a flurry until I was eight, when most can do that by the age of five. A lot of people thought that I might have had some sort of birth defect, at least until my magic finally revealed itself at seven.” A frown came to his pale face. “Even after that, I could still barely use any magic on command. I could do minor things, such as conjure up a light snow or freeze small objects, but I could only use stronger magic based on strong emotions or adrenaline spikes, and I could rarely ever control what I did.”

Simon frowned and glanced down at the empty sleeve where his left arm had once been. “Well...that certainly explains a lot…” he commented.

Jack nodded grimly. “Yes...it led to several...unfortunate situations,” he agreed. “It lasted most of my life, too...I only achieved full control five months ago, during the battle with the Nightmare King.”

He hoped Simon hadn’t noticed the way his eyes flicked uneasily around the uncomfortably  _ underground _ room upon recalling that particular battle.

“Since then,” he continued, forcing himself to shake off his discomfort. “I’ve been able to use magic normally, thankfully. Though...I’ll admit that I still wonder what caused the inability in the first place. I don’t believe I ever actually discovered the reason for it…”

“Mhm...it’s certainly strange…” Simon said with a slight nod. “I can’t pretend I have an answer for you, though...perhaps the doctor would know? Or maybe--”

“E-Excuse me…” a soft voice suddenly sounded from the direction of the doorway.

The two young men blinked in surprise and turned to look. Upon doing so, they were greeted with the sight of Dr. Fletcher’s shy daughter, Cynthia, standing at the door and holding a small tray made from ice with a few vials of pale blue liquid upon it.

A silence fell over the room as the young girl timidly entered, lowering her head to avoid meeting Jack or Simon’s eyes. She quietly made her way over to Jack’s bedside and placed the tray on the small table beside him. “Here…” she said softly, picking up one of the vials. “M-My...my father told me to...t-to give this to you...i-it’s medicine...i-it should help you sleep a-and r-recover your strength…”

Jack’s expression softed, and he nodded kindly at her. “Thank you,” he said politely, accepting the vial.

_ She reminds me so much of Livi… _ he acknowledged silently, memories of his late younger sister surfacing within his mind.  _ Or rather, of how she was once I found her again...after the Nightmare King stole her magic...she was so timid and scared, as Cynthia appears to be...it seems that even the children that managed to escape Pitch Black’s clutches were still affected by the results of his misdeeds… _

“U-Um…” Cynthia suddenly murmured, jolting Jack out of his thoughts. “W-What you were talking about before, it...i-it sounded like IMR...i-involuntary magical repression…”

Jack frowned slightly. “Involuntary magical repression…?” he echoed, raising a dark eyebrow questioningly. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that before…”

The girl nodded timidly. “I-It’s fairly rare…” she admitted quietly. “B-But sometimes, a sprite’s b-body might lock its own magic away inside...i-it can be for a few different reasons...the m-most common is simply a lack of s-self-confidence on the sprite’s part...b-but...it can also be b-because the sprite’s magic is too p-powerful when compared to the strength of th-their body a-and force of will combined…”

“I see…” Jack’s expression became thoughtful as he silently considered the girl’s words.  _ I don’t ever remember harboring a lack of self-confidence when it came to my magic… _ he mused.  _ In fact, I would say I was all too eager to learn how to use it, and I never gave up once...though I suppose when I went on the run, it halted any progress I might have made, but that’s beside the point. Perhaps, then...somehow, it really was too powerful for me to handle...it would explain my lack of control whenever I could reach my magic...hell, I froze Simon’s arm off without meaning to at all, as well as the limbs of several others...I...I even killed a man by accident...and I was younger then, and certainly not immortal...I suppose it would be reasonable to assume that my magic was simply too strong for me to control... _

_ Let me see...I first truly gained control of my magic during the battle with the Nightmare King. My physical strength had increased somewhat due to the Guardians’ training by that point, but what really pushed things over the edge must have been the discovery of my Center...Fun...for the first time, I knew who I was and what I was supposed to be. I was a Guardian. Perhaps that was strengthened my “force of will,” as Cynthia called it...that would certainly explain quite a bit. _

Jack gave a slight exhale, finally saying, “Thank you for telling me, Cynthia...this has been something I’ve wondered about for a long time.”

The girl dipped her head in response. “Y-You’re welcome…” she replied softly. “I-I’ve heard my father m-mention it...I-I overheard you two t-talking, and...f-figured I sh-should tell you…” For a moment, it seemed as though she wanted to say more, but, apparently thinking better of it, she bit her lip and looked away.

Jack arched an eyebrow in slight confusion. “Was there...something else you wanted to tell me…?” he asked gently. “Or a question you wanted to ask, or anything…?

Cynthia hesitated, fiddling with the silver chain of the necklace she wore as she considered his words. “U-Um…” she reluctantly began at last. “Is...i-is it true, w-what I heard the council say…? A-Are...are you a...a G-Guardian of Childhood…?” She finally looked up at him with wide eyes, anxiously anticipating his reply.

Jack couldn’t help but smile.

“Well...yes,” he told her. “I am.”

If possible, her cerulean eyes grew even wider in wonder.

“And if you don’t believe him,” Simon suddenly cut in from across the room. “I’ve got the perfect book to prove--”

“Not now, Simon,” Jack deadpanned, giving him a dull look.

Just as the archer smirked and opened his mouth to speak again, to both young men’s shock, the shy Cynthia gave a slight giggle at their expense. When Jack looked back to her in surprise, however, the girl was quick to apologize.

“I-I’m sorry!” she stammered. “I-I just...got c-caught up in the m-moment...but...w-wow, I...y-you’re really a Guardian!?”

The boy gave a slight chuckle and nodded. “As I said, yes, I am. I take it you’ve heard the stories of the others, then?”

“Of course!” Cynthia replied, the waver in her voice gradually beginning to fade. “E-Everyone knows those stories! The...the adults here don’t like the Guardians much a-anymore, since they didn’t exactly...help us, but…” She smiled for the first time. “U-Us younger sprites...we still remember why we loved them!”

Jack did not hesitate to return the smile. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said warmly. He then paused for a moment, a thought coming to mind. “Hey, Cynthia…” he began slowly. “If I promise to tell you stories about the other four Guardians...could you maybe show Simon and I around the city a bit? Don’t worry, I’ll rest first, but...I haven’t gotten to see more than a few rooms, and I’d really like to take a look around at the rest of this place. Do you think you could do that for me…?”

The girl paused a moment, thinking his words over. Then, she smiled once more and nodded. “I-I’ll have to ask my father first,” she told him. “B-But...I think I could do that!”

The young Guardian grinned. “Thank you very much, Cynthia,” he said. “I’ll certainly look forward to it.”


	12. The Tour Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gahhh, I'm so sorry about being so late, guys! Between my 18th birthday, Easter, college registration, friends' parties, and teachers trying to fit in as many projects as they can before the end of the year, I've had like NO time to write up until now. I hope you'll forgive my lateness :( Let's get started without further delay, shall we?

**** The next day, upon receiving permission from her father, Cynthia kept her promise to grant Jack and Simon a tour of New Iskald in exchange for a few stories about the Guardians of Childhood before they left. Though her nervousness around Jack swiftly faded with each short tale he told, the girl still seemed a bit wary of Simon due to his being a human and possibly, based on Jack’s observations of her eyes flicking to and quickly away from the archer’s tied-off sleeve, also having something to do with his lack of a left arm.

Simon, too, seemed to have noticed Cynthia’s nerves, likely being used to standing at the receiving end of awkward furtive stares. Several times before, Jack had witnessed Simon question people that looked at him strangely, teasing them in a pseudo-innocent and mockingly clueless tone until their faces were flushed and their voices were reduced to mere mumbles. It was Simon’s personal belief that adults should know better than to look down upon or judge an amputee such as himself for injuries beyond his control ( _ Which is perhaps part of the reason he was so quick to believe me when I told him that snow sprites were simply misjudged, _ Jack privately thought). With children that hadn’t learned as much, however, the young man was usually more gentle, not attempting to utilize the usual snark.

Simon had knelt down to her level and calmly asked if his empty sleeve bothered her. It had taken some coaxing, but Cynthia finally confessed that she had overheard part of Jack and Simon’s conversation, in which the young men made reference to the fact that it had been Jack’s magic that had taken his left arm from him. She had evidently been worried that the archer would attempt to take revenge against Jack himself and the rest of the snow sprites, as she had been told by her peers that humans were prone to do so.

To his credit, Simon was rather patient with the girl, even as he admitted that he had indeed once tried to take Jack’s life in an effort to avenge his missing limb.

“I have a bad habit of...acting on my impulses,” he had said, rubbing the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly. “It’s true; I once believed that snow sprites were demons just as most others did, and when one took my arm from me...well, I figured that it was solid confirmation of the rumors. And later...I’ll never deny the fact that I was an arrow’s length away from killing Jack in revenge.”

Though Cynthia had drawn in a sharp breath at this point in what was either shock or fear, Simon had continued without hesitation. “But then, he did something that surprised me. He began talking to me.” The archer smiled slightly. “I must admit, I hadn’t expected him to be so...normal.”

Jack tried not to be offended by this.

“Oh, come on, stop pouting, as abnormal as your face is, it isn’t what I was referring to” Simon had said, rolling his eyes at Jack’s dull expression, which actually elicited a slight amused grin from Cynthia. “What I meant was,” the red-haired man continued. “He told me his name, the name of his home, the names of his family members...it made me realize something. He wasn’t some heartless demon with no affection for anyone, as many would have assumed at that time. He was just a person, a child, even, who had lost everything due to my kind’s gullibility. After that...the animosity I had been told to harbor for six years faded into nothing. I no longer bear any will towards innocent sprites, and...I’ve even made a sort of friend of the very boy that took my arm in the first place. The incident had been unintentional, of course, and had been done in accidental self-defense. Either way...I suppose I evened the score when I attempted to kill him, so we no longer wish to antagonize one another.”

Simon’s last few statements had caused Jack to pause for a moment and reflect. He supposed that, by this point, despite their claim that they would only ever be acquaintances after their first proper meeting, they had, somewhere along the line, become friends. They still were not particularly close, but they talked whenever they saw each other and kept up a friendly sort of banter that outsiders might find baffling, especially when their confusingly rocky history was brought up. It was not a conventional friendship by any means, but it was certainly preferable to remaining enemies.

And of course, it would not do to be at each other’s throats while they were both stuck in the same prisoner situation (Jack was well aware that while the New Iskald council was still deciding what to do with them, he would be considered as much of a prisoner as Simon himself was).

Soon enough, Cynthia became more at ease with the archer. Though she still seemed marginally unsure, she readily agreed to take both young men out into the main part of the city, no longer shying away from either of them.

The trio exited out into the dimly lit hallway, which Cynthia then proceeded to guide them down, this time in the opposite direction of where Jack knew that Simon’s former cell and the interrogation room were. As they walked, the lighting became gradually brighter, as though whoever had set up the magical lights had decided that the far end of the hall was more important than the one the three had come from.

And once they reached the other side, Jack could see that such an occurrence was for good reason.

The hallway let out into what could only be described as a city made of ice. The houses that lined the far side of the huge underground chamber were not made from brick, stone, or wood, but formed entirely from glistening ice opaque enough to protect the privacy of those inside. On the side of the area where Jack, Simon, and Cynthia now stood, there were not buildings, but instead icy arches standing over hallways like the one they had just exited from, all engraved with the name of some sort of place of business, or any other location that was not a household. They could see many sprites, children, teenagers, and adults alike, constantly moving in and out of these buildings, going about their day. Separating the business and residential sectors was a massive lake in the center of the room, which Jack assumed was their primary water source.

As if reading his thoughts, Cynthia pointed at the lake and told them, “We actually created that lake when we came down here so we could have access to lots of water. We make a lot of ice and snow above it, then use a fire charm to melt it into water we can drink.”

Simon blinked in surprise. “Snow sprites can use fire charms?” he asked, head tilted slightly to one side.

“It’s dangerous if it goes wrong, but yes,” Jack answered. “Technically speaking, we can learn any form of general magic, just as humans can. Though...I will admit that wielding fire as a snow sprite is quite a risk.”

“That’s why Lily’s always the one to do it,” Cynthia put in. “She knows a  _ lot _ of different kinds of magic. She was actually like you!” She pointed at Jack. “Her ice magic took a long time to show itself, so instead of waiting for it, she decided she was going to learn some other magic in the meantime!”

“Wow,” Jack commented in slight surprise. “I...admit, I never even thought of trying that. What else can she do?”

“Well, the main thing she does is oversee the fields where we grow crops,” Cynthia explained. “It’s usually not easy for snow sprites to farm...mostly because of our natural coldness. And then, of course, there’s the fact that we’re underground. But Lily knows some nature magic and even a sunlight charm, so we’ve been able to make things work!”

“That’s remarkably impressive…” Jack mused. “Do you think you could show us those fields?” Truth be told, he was exceedingly interested in what Cynthia claimed this “Lily” person could do. Sprites were perfectly capable of caring for livestock without hurting the animals, but he had never heard of one being able to grow crops without freezing them over. He supposed it would be possible for someone who knew as many different types of magic as Lily allegedly did, so he wanted to see for himself.

“Sure!” Cynthia replied with a nod. “Right this way!”

The girl led them to one of the hallways to their left, which had an arch above it labeled, “Agriculture.” They headed down the hall, which looked similar to the one they had come from before, only it did not possess dimmer and dimmer lighting as they got further down it. Instead, the light seemed to get ever brighter, as though the sun was waiting for them at the end of the tunnel.

And in a way, Jack supposed, it was.

The trio soon came to a set of two transparent ice walls that allowed them to see through into a strange sort of underground field that looked like it stretched over a mile back. Many plants that hadn’t yet begun to bear fruits or vegetables stood in long rows while artificial sunlight seemed to pour from the ceiling. Kneeling in the center of it all was a young snow sprite woman who looked to be about Simon’s age, dressed in a simple, loose shirt and pants, with her long silvery hair in a braid down her back.

“Lily!” Cynthia called out, somehow getting the young woman’s attention despite the walls of ice separating them. “We have guests that want to meet you!”

“Alright!” Lily called back. “Hold on, I’ll be there in a moment!” She stood up and began walking towards them, pulling off the gloves she wore and tossing them aside. Lily then entered the area between the two ice walls, closing the first door behind her before exiting fully to meet the three of them.

“So,” she said with a slight smile. “You two must be the newcomers I’ve been hearing all about.”

Jack nodded. “That’s right,” he said. “My name is Jack Frost.”

“He’s a Guardian of Childhood!” Cynthia added excitedly.

Lily’s eyebrows raised as she looked him over with impressed curiosity. “Huh, you don’t say...well, guess that explains why Cynthia warmed up to you so easily.” She chuckled slightly, then turned to Simon. “And you are?”

There was a silence.

Jack frowned slightly and glanced over at the archer, a dark eyebrow raised. To his surprise, Simon was essentially frozen in place, staring at Lily in what could only be described as awe.

_...oh this is too perfect, _ Jack thought with a smirk.  _ If that isn’t the stare of a man whose heart has suddenly been struck with the sight of a beautiful woman...then I don’t know what is. _

The young Guardian cleared his throat and elbowed Simon, who started suddenly, emerald eyes going wide as he hastily attempted to recover from the awkward silence. “O-Oh, um...my name is Simon! Simon Basil! It’s...very nice to meet you!”

Lily seemed a bit taken aback, but nodded slowly all the same. “Er...it’s nice to meet you as well.” Shaking off the confusion, she gave a slight smile instead. “My name is Lily. Lily Callia. I’m the head of agricultural matters around here, as well as the go-to for some other forms of magic. So...what brings you here today?”

“I’m giving them a tour of the city,” Cynthia explained, seemingly oblivious to Simon’s embarrassment and Jack’s amusement. “And when I told them about what you do, they wanted to come and meet you!”

“And I must say,” Jack put in with a smile. “I am quite interested in what else your magical talents may include, as I’m sure my friend Simon is as well.” He put a hand on the archer’s back, who stiffened considerably and glanced sideways at the younger boy in suspicion. “If it is not too much trouble...could you perhaps join us for the rest of the tour?”

“Jack--” Simon began dangerously, though quiet enough that the others could not here.

“Ooh, yes!” Cynthia agreed with a grin. “Could you, Lily, could you?”

Lily paused for a moment to think, then smiled and nodded. “I suppose I could spare some time to come with you,” she said. “And I might be able to help explain some things that Cynthia here might not know. After all, magic’s what makes this city run, and I’m something of an expert on that, if I may brag just a bit!” She laughed slightly. “In all seriousness, though, it’s certainly not just me that works with magic, but I do a little bit of everything, so I can answer any questions you might have.”

“Good to hear!” Jack replied. “Now, Cynthia, Lily...please, lead the way.”

As the girls nodded and began to lead the young men back down the hallway, Jack noticed Simon’s scowl and gave a smirk, tilting his head and asking innocently, “Yes?”

“You’re only doing this so you can tease me, aren’t you?” Simon hissed, eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack replied with a shrug. “I’m legitimately interested in what Miss Callia has to say. Besides…” He winked. “She is rather beautiful, isn’t she?”

“...be quiet,” Simon mumbled. “You...you know nothing.”

“I know that you’re a man who’s just encountered a woman he finds attractive,” Jack chuckled lightly. “That much is obvious.”

Simon glared at him. “Plenty of men find plenty of women attractive throughout their lives,” he mumbled defensively. “Why are you ridiculing me now?”

Jack snorted slightly. “Mainly because of the, ah... _ suave _ way you handled things.”

“...I was caught off-guard, okay!? No need to laugh about it!”

The young sprite merely snickered. “Well, it was rather amusing,” he pointed out, grinning. “Especially the way you tried to save face after a full ten seconds of silence. But don’t worry! I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances to talk to her properly on this tour!”

“...what did I do to hurt you?” Simon muttered, looking away.

Jack grinned evilly. “You kept bringing up a certain goddamn book.”


	13. Guardian Update

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Couldn't update last week 'cause I had to finish up a ton of projects for school, but here I am, now with only one final exam remaining before I'm free for the summer! Woo! Anyway, let's get right to the chapter!

**** _Beginner’s General Magic_

_By Felix Arcana_

**_Basic Utility Spells_ **

**_Fire Charm_ **

**_Incantation: Fuegara Minima_ **

_Creates a small, controllable flame able to fit in the palm of one’s hand. Not to be confused with_ **_Fuegara Maxima_ ** _, which creates a much larger, potentially dangerous flame._

**_Water Purification Charm_ **

**_Incantation: Aquapristenne_ **

_Removes natural toxins from a water source in order to render it safe for consumption. Will also detect and destroy most known man-made poisons._

**_Sun Charm_ **

**_Incantation: Helisolus_ **

_Forms a non-harmful, extremely compressed version of the sun’s rays to nurture plant growth and provide warmth._

**_Silencing Charm_ **

**_Incantation: Silentotalis_ **

_Charm with two uses. When used on a room or other enclosed area, soundproofs the walls. When used on another person, disables their voice until counterspell is used._

**_Pathfinding Charm_ **

**_Incantation: Naviterra_ **

_When given a destination, forms a glowing trail of light only visible to the user that will lead them to the indicated area. Only works over land masses._

**_Clairvoyance Charm_ **

**_Incantation: Clairvoyus [Person’s name]_ **

_Allows extrasensory perception of a particular person from afar. Works the best with events transpiring at present as well as moments in the past, but can also divine possible future events to skilled mages on rare occasions._

**()()()()**

Over the course of the next couple of hours, Cynthia and Lily led Jack and Simon around the city, first leading them through the hallways they were closest to, showing them each business and other non-residence, including but not limited to a tailor, a stable (Jack was quite happy to see that Zephyr had been brought here and was being treated quite well, along with Simon's gray mare), an apothecary, food storage, and a center for magical research. Lily spoke up quite animatedly while they visited this last area in particular, and Jack couldn’t help but smirk at the way Simon listened with rapt attention to every word the young woman had to say.

Simon, of course, made a point of ignoring Jack entirely upon noticing his smug expression, which only made the young Guardian grin more widely.

Eventually, however, when he at last let his mind shift away from teasing Simon, Jack realized that Lily just might be able to help him restore contact with the Guardians. He himself did not know any other type of magic than that which he was born with, but...perhaps she could help him. He only hoped that she wouldn’t refuse him due to the fact that he was _technically_ a prisoner.

“Excuse me, Miss Callia?” Jack began tentatively, lifting his hand slightly to get her attention. “I don’t mean to be rude, but...may I ask a favor of you?”

Lily smiled slightly and nodded. “Of course, what do you need?” she asked. “And please, you can just call me Lily.”

Jack returned the slight smile. “Lily,” he amended, then proceeded with his request. “I realize I might be overstepping my boundaries here a bit, but...do you happen to have a method through which I can contact the other Guardians of Childhood? I was supposed to return to them a while ago...they’re probably worried about me.”

At this, Lily hesitated. “Well…” she began slowly, pulling her braid over one shoulder and fiddling with the end of it. “I…” She sighed. “Listen, I really would love to help...but the Council sent out a message last night that neither of you were to leave or to have contact with the outside world until they get your story confirmed...that’s not to say that we all don’t trust you, of course. I, for one, believe that you’re telling the truth, and I know others that do as well. It’s just...precautions, you know…? You’re the first outsiders we’ve seen in years...it’s not surprising many don’t quite trust you”

Though Jack’s heart sank, he somehow managed to keep a straight face. “I understand,” he said grimly. “But this is extremely important...if you really do believe me like you say, I’m begging you...there must be something that can be done…”

Lily still seemed reluctant for a few moments before her azure eyes lit up in realization. Her smile returned as she looked up at Jack and nodded. “Actually...I think there is,” she told him. “I still can’t let you contact them...but I can let you see them with a Clairvoyance Charm. And...who knows? Maybe something they say could confirm your story!”

Jack grinned in relief, nodding in response. “Thank you, Lily,” he said gratefully. “That...really means a lot.”

She smiled. “It’s no problem,” she assured him. “Now, come over here and I’ll cast the charm. Cynthia, Simon, you two can watch as well, if you’d like.”

Cynthia instantly nodded enthusiastically and rushed to Lily’s side, while Simon started in surprise at the sound of his name. “U-Um…” he stammered, unable to find words until he noticed Jack once again smirking in his direction. Then, his eyes narrowed and he cleared his throat, straightening his posture and overall composing himself to reply, “Ah...yes. I would indeed like to observe the spell.”

Jack found it difficult to hold back his snickers.

Lily, for her part, did not comment on the archer’s behavior, instead closing her eyes and holding out her hands in front of her. Then, she paused, briefly opening one eye to glance over at Jack. “Do you want to see a particular Guardian?” she asked. “I have to give the spell a specific person’s name for it to work properly.”

After a moment’s thought, Jack replied, “Mhm...Nicholas St. North might be best.”

 _North is probably the most likely to provide information if on his own…_ Jack mentally acknowledged. _And he is also the most likely to call the others in for a meeting...with any luck, he’ll at least be conversing with one of the others so we can glean more context from their conversation._

“Alright,” Lily said, closing her eye once more. “Here goes... _Clairvoyus Nicholas St. North_.” As she spoke the incantation, her hands began to glow a soft white, and as she began slowly waving them in small circles in front of her, a white mist began to form around them. Then, once the mist had spread a considerable amount, vague colors began to appear within its center.

Jack’s eyes widened as the colors melded together, forming into an image of none other than Nicholas St. North and E. Aster Bunnymund standing in the main chamber of the Soluna City Guardian headquarters. Within moments, their echoing voices also began to emanate from the mist.

**()()()()**

_“--I’m tellin’ ya, mate,” Aster was saying, arms crossed over his furry chest. “There hasn’t been any sign of the kid for almost two weeks. None whatsoever. Like he just...vanished.”_

_North’s eyebrows furrowed in worry as he paced back and forth anxiously. “He should have been back long before now…” he murmured, stroking his short beard._

_Aster scowled. “Ya think?” he muttered sarcastically. “So...what are we gonna do? Can’t just sit here forever and hope he’ll show up at the door. Frostbite’s probably got himself lost in the desert somehow...and that ain’t good for a sprite, even one with a coolin’ gem.”_

_“You are right,” North responded gravely, coming to a halt and turning to face the Pooka. “We need to go after him. Jack is strong boy...I am sure he is still alive. But if he really is lost in desert as you say...we must move quickly. And because of this...I think is time to break out sleigh once more!”_

_The Motorean’s eyes widened in horror. “Whoa, whoa, mate, hold up!” he protested, clearly alarmed. “I, ah...think takin’ horses or even lettin’ me make a tunnel might be faster! And, um...and safer!”_

_North merely waved him off, rolling his eyes. “Do not be silly!” he said firmly. “Running under or on ground is slower than flying above. Will be much easier with sleigh!”_

_“Ya haven’t used the bloody death trap in years! How do ya even still know it’s functional!?”_

_The man shrugged. “We will have to see,” was his only reply, to which Aster groaned in anguish. Seemingly oblivious to the rabbit’s plight, North added, “Once Tooth and Sandy return we will all go together.”_

_“I’d rather run separately,” Aster muttered under his breath._

_Suddenly, North became serious, reaching out and placing a hand on his fellow Guardian’s shoulder. “Is no time for complaints, Aster,” he said firmly, a sort of steely determination in his eyes. “We...we_ **_must_ ** _find Jack. He is one of us...he is family now. We will not lose him so easily.”_

_For a time, Aster was silent. Then, he sighed, shoulders slumping momentarily before he straightened and met North’s gaze._

_“Alright, mate,” he said, matching North’s resolve. “Let’s go get Frostbite.”_

**()()()()**

Even as the mist faded, Jack couldn’t help but continue to stare in shock at where it had once been.

 _Family…_ he thought numbly. _They...consider me family…_

The boy’s stunned thoughts were interrupted by Lily speaking softly as she lowered her hands and opened her eyes. “So then...you truly are a Guardian,” she said, turning to look at him. “And...they’re looking for you.”

“Yes…” Jack forced himself to answer, despite the fact that his head was still spinning slightly from the charm’s revelations. “I haven’t lied to any of you once...I _am_ a Guardian of Childhood, and...I need to get back to the others.”

Lily paused for a moment as though in thought, then gave a slight smile and a nod. “Then...I’ll do my best to vouch for you,” she promised. “Both you and Simon, even. I can use this spell to recall that same scene once more for the councilmembers, and I’m sure I can find something in Simon’s past to confirm his innocence as well. After that...if all goes well, they’ll let you two go free.”

Shaking off his earlier shock, Jack smiled as well. “Thank you so much, Lily, honestly...you’ve been a huge help,” he said. Then, he sharply nudged Simon, who was staring at Lily once more, in the side.

After a startled grunt of pain, the one-armed archer quickly snapped out of his previous dreamlike state, quickly stuttering, “Y-Yes, I...th-thank you, Lily...this means more to me than I can say.”

Jack, for one, rolled his eyes, but Lily at least seemed to appreciate the gratitude, as she smiled and said, “You’re both very welcome. I’ll be sure to--”

Suddenly, a new, familiarly sharp voice sounded from the entrance to the room. “Jack Frost! Over here! Now!”

After recovering from the brief shock brought on by the voice’s suddenness, Jack turned around to see Arios Fletcher standing in the entryway, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “My father wants to see you,” he explained shortly, his tone laced with hostility and distrust. “He wants to check on your health once more before allowing you to return to your tour. Evidently--” His lip curled in disgust as he continued speaking. “--I’m to accompany you back to your room to ensure that you make it there.” He rolled his cobalt eyes and mumbled under his breath, “Don’t know why the fool can’t come get you himself…”

Jack frowned slightly, a bit reluctant to leave, but figured that it couldn’t hurt to appease Dr. Fletcher for now. The man’s worrying over Jack since he had arrived in New Iskald was admittedly understandable for a doctor, and the boy supposed that his caretaker deserved to know that he was alright, especially after all the doctor had done for him.

“Very well,” he replied with a nod. “Just give me a moment and I’ll be right out.”

Arios scowled slightly, but begrudgingly nodded. “Fine,” he muttered. “Just don’t waste my time.” With that, he withdrew into the hallway to wait.

“My…” Simon mumbled, rolling his emerald eyes slightly. “What exactly is his problem?”

“No one really knows,” Lily sighed. “He’s just...always been paranoid and hostile to most…”

“He wasn’t always like that…” Cynthia piped up softly, eyes trained on the ground. “I remember that he used to be sweet, and kind...but when we lost Mama in the fire six years ago...he changed…”

Jack practically felt his heart melt in his chest. He too knew what it was like to lose loved ones to the fires that had destroyed so many snow sprite villages six years prior, and he knew firsthand how the devastation of loss could so thoroughly change a person to the point of being almost unrecognizable.

 _Perhaps Arios isn’t so bad…_ he thought with a frown. _Perhaps he’s merely hurt...just as I was…_

Jack sighed and cleared his throat. “Cynthia...I’m so sorry for your loss…” he said softly.

“It’s okay…” the girl responded quietly. “I don’t remember it too much…”

“All the same...I’m sorry.” Jack took a deep breath, resisting the urge to kneel down and give the poor girl a hug, as he was certain that any delay would only serve to provoke Arios’ temper. Instead, he turned to Simon. “Stay here with Lily,” he told the archer. “Try to find some sort of scenario she can find that will prove your innocence as well...I should be back soon.”

Simon nodded. “Right,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

Jack nodded as well. “See you soon,” he echoed, then he turned to Lily once more with a slight smile. “Thank you once again, Lily. For everything.”

She gave a smile of her own in return. “It’s no problem at all,” she told him. “I value truth...it wouldn’t have been right to hold you two here for much longer without any proof of wrongdoing.”

Jack found himself strongly agreeing with that sentiment.

After bidding quick goodbyes to the other three, Jack finally stepped out into the hallway to join Arios, who began leading him back to the boy’s room without a word. The whole distance, in fact, was traveled in a silence that Jack was not willing to dare to break.

 _I don’t really want to land myself even further on his bad side…_ he silently acknowledged. _He’s already suspicious enough of Simon and me...so much so that he seems to be trying to manipulate the other councilmembers into rejecting us. It would not be wise to anger him further…_

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the two sprites reached the room Jack had been staying in. Arios moved ahead and opened the door, saying stiffly, “My father is right in here.”

“Thank you,” Jack said politely, nodding in Arios’ direction. The older sprite, however, said nothing, merely scoffing and turning away. Jack gave a slight sigh, and, instead of bothering to speak to him once more, he entered the room, opening his mouth to greet Dr. Fletcher.

Only Dr. Fletcher was nowhere to be found.

Jack blinked in confusion and glanced around the empty room. “Er...Arios?” he said tentatively, beginning to turn back towards the door. “Your father doesn’t appear to be in--”

**_THUD._ **

Jack saw stars as what felt like a fist collided with the back of his head, causing the room to spin and his knees to buckle as he fell forward to the ground with a gasp. Though his vision swam, he managed to struggle onto his back rather than his stomach just in time to see a figure standing over him.

 **_“Oh, I know.”_ ** Arios replied with a grin, his voice suddenly lower and somehow much, much darker, causing a stab of fear to course through Jack’s entire being. **_“But I had to get you alone somehow, didn’t I?”_ **

_A TRAP, A TRAP, A TRAP,_ Jack’s mind practically screamed at him through his dizzy haze. _GET UP, GET OUT OF THERE, RUN, HE’S GONNA--_

**_“Lights out...Guardian.”_ **

For a brief moment, before Arios’ boot collided with Jack’s head, the young man briefly came into focus, allowing Jack to see and process a particular detail that made Jack’s heart stop, all in the split second before his world went dark.

Arios’ eyes were yellow.


	14. "Savior" of Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Welcome back to RFL 2: Into the Dark! School's finally out, so hopefully my update schedule with smooth out at last! Woo! Anyway, let's get right to the chapter!

Pain was the first sensation that Jack could feel upon awakening. Pain in his head, pain in his wrists, pain in his arms, pain in his back...for what felt like a long time, nothing could distract him from the fact that most of his body quite simply  _hurt_.

That is, until he started to wonder why.

_What the hell happened…?_  he thought groggily as he opened his eyes, only to be met with nothing but darkness.  _Where am I…?_

Soon, he became aware of the fact that, despite having just been unconscious, he was not currently lying down. As a matter of fact, he could feel nothing touching him aside from what felt like thick metal clamped around his wrists, which were currently situated above his head. Other than that, it was as if his body was completely…

His eyes widened.  _...suspended in the air,_  he thought, anxiety beginning to rise.  _I'm hanging by my wrists...my **chained**  wrists...where the hell am I!?_

Jack quickly allowed his eyes to glow blue, granting him a bit of sight even in the total darkness he seemed to currently reside within. The young sprite immediately looked up to find that, sure enough, he was hanging from the ceiling by his wrists, which were bound by heavy shackles connected to chains that appeared to have been configured into something like a pulley system. Briefly, he attempted to turn the shackles to ice, but, as he had idly suspected, they seemed to completely resist his magic. Instead of lamenting over this failure, however, he turned his attention back to the chains' arrangement.

_Something to lower me with…?_  he silently questioned, only growing more nervous as he thought.  _Which means that there is most likely something below me that I'd rather not be forcefully plunged into…_

The boy then apprehensively glanced downwards to find the answer to his internal question. While he thankfully couldn't see any sort of ravenous creature or sharp metal spikes beneath him waiting to tear his body apart, he did notice a deep-looking pool of water. In the darkness, even with Jack's somewhat enhanced vision, the water appeared almost black, and was eerily still, barely rippling at all.

Jack gulped. He had never been the strongest of swimmers, but he had serious doubts that even one used to the water would fare very well when dropped into it like a stone with their arms bound above their head. Aside from spontaneously sprouting gills, he doubted very much could be done to properly prepare for such a situation.

Suddenly, Jack was pulled from his grim thoughts by a dark yet vaguely familiar chuckle sounding what seemed like a few feet in front of him. He looked up in surprise, eyes widening, though he dared not speak, lest his voice crack and fail him.

In his anxiousness to ascertain his current position, Jack had failed to notice the dark figure sitting at the end of the room. However, once its glowing yellow eyes flashed open, it became far more noticeable.

**_"Hello there, Jack,"_  **the figure began smugly, its voice a disturbing mixture between Arios' and something decidedly far more inhuman.  _ **"Tell me...did you sleep well?"**_

Jack's eyes narrowed into glowing blue slits.  _"Fearling,"_  he hissed, forcing his voice to stay steady despite the thick curtain of artificial fear that seemed to coat the very room, threatening to overwhelm him.

_It would be of no use to lose my composure now…_  he silently acknowledged, though he could already feel intense anxiety pushing at his mind.  _As...dire as this situation is, I can't let myself panic...if anything, I need to learn what the hell is going on..._

"I must admit, this is a surprise…" he cautiously said aloud. "I was under the impression that there were none of you left conscious."

_**"That would seem to be the case,"**_  the Fearling replied smoothly.  _ **"Though I admit, I knew nothing of the Nightmare King's fall before I overheard you telling the councilmembers all about it...I have been lying dormant for quite a long time, you see."**_

"And you didn't suffer the same fate because...why, exactly?" Jack asked stiffly, still careful to keep his voice relatively level. "Perhaps because you inhabit a vessel?"

_**"Very observant of you,"**_  the dark creature replied.  _ **"Yes...under the Nightmare King's command, only the oh-so-special Onyx had the privilege of inhabiting a body...after all, when tied to physical forms of our own, his direct control over us is less great. He preferred to keep us subservient, which most did not mind, but then, I always found myself possessing a bit more ambition than the common masses."**_

Jack arched a dark eyebrow. "So then...you're a deserter," he assumed.

The Fearling shrugged.  _ **"I prefer the term 'savior.'"**_  He grinned, his teeth just a bit too sharp to look entirely normal on the snow sprite he possessed.  _ **"After all, being the only Fearling left standing after you Guardians so soundly vanquished the Nightmare Army...I am now the King's greatest asset."**_

The boy's eyes narrowed once again.  _There's his plan… he thought. I should keep probing…_  "You plan to return to him, then. Help him rise again."

_**"In short, yes,"**  _the Fearling flippantly replied.  _ **"I must say, your arrival here was quite fortuitous for me...I was beginning to tire of feeding off the Fear of a few vaguely paranoid sprites. Imagine my delight when you and that crippled archer caused said paranoia to spike up even further!"**_

Suddenly, Arios' strange and, indeed, paranoid behavior from before began making much more sense than it had previously. The thought that he had seemed far too distrustful, even for someone hiding from the outside world, had lingered at the back of Jack's mind ever since his first interaction with the young man.

Back during his own days on the run, Jack had learned to trust no one, but also to keep said distrust to himself, lest he look too suspicious. It had quickly become apparent that the more intelligent course of action was to act calm, collected, and, at times, almost amicable whenever forced into social situations. Such behavior effectively disguised the fact that he was someone with something to hide.

Arios, meanwhile, had almost appeared to actively encourage others to share in his apparent alarm, and seemed rather adept at the practice as well. It had come off as strange before, but with a Fear-hungry monster at the helm, influencing the man's every decision, Arios' behavior now made perfect sense.

"So let me get this straight," Jack began quietly, forcefully pushing away the last remnants of his headache and unease so that he might be allowed to piece everything together properly. "You are a Fearling that, however long ago, left the Nightmare King and possessed Arios Fletcher. You said you've been lying dormant for a long time...is it safe to assume that my arrival awakened you?"

The Fearling grinned.  _ **"Indeed,"**_  he confirmed.  _ **"The sheer amount of Fear that coursed through the city when you got here was simply irresistible…"**_  If possible, the creature's grin grew wider.  _ **"Not to mention the abundant wealth of Fear you yourself seem to carry."**_

Jack visibly flinched, recalling his earlier panic at discovering that he was underground, as well as several other of his more longstanding insecurities. Now, such simple fears seemed almost trivial compared to what he now knew he faced.

"A-Anyway…" he said quickly, struggling to get his thoughts back on track. He needed to focus if he was going to gather information properly...if he could ever manage to get back to the other Guardians, knowledge of this Fearling's plans would be invaluable to them. "You've now awakened, and...plan to bring back the Nightmare King, despite deserting him before?"

_**"My so-called 'desertion' was not exactly...planned, so to speak,"**_  the Fearling answered with a casual shrug.  _ **"I was merely attracted to the terror of a young man trapped in a burning, crumbling building alongside the charred corpse of his mother!"**_  He laughed openly at Jack's look of horror.  _ **"Yes, I first entered Arios' body no less than six years ago, during one of the fateful attacks that I'm sure you're quite familiar with. Truth be told, I had initially intended to take the boy's body and use it to prove that I could serve the Nightmare King just as well as Onyx could...but that damned doctor just had to brave the flames to rescue his beloved son...ugh. Such affection sickens me, though I suppose his success does deserve some admiration, foolish as the attempt was.**_

_**"But I'm digressing far too much...to answer your question, yes, I plan on bringing the Nightmare King back out of his recently-induced slumber. As I've said before, I'm the only Fearling left awake, and as such, I'm destined to be the savior of my kind."**_  He chuckled.  _ **"And of course...such a status will no doubt earn me the privileges that Onyx once held. Respect, power, access to much more Fear...perhaps I'll even be granted permission to use a name, just as she was!"**_

Jack, meanwhile, was hardly listening to the Fearling's continued rambling. His mind whirled with visions of his own past encounter with the fires that destroyed countless homes and taken even more lives. Due to the Fletchers' story, it seemed as though not every raid had been quite as wholly fatal as the one he experienced had been. Some sprites in other villages had managed to keep their lives long enough to flee.

But at what cost?

_**"Hey, are you listening?"**_  the Fearling suddenly asked irritably, snapping Jack out of his thoughts. When Jack started slightly and looked back over at him, the dark creature rolled his yellow eyes in contempt.  _ **"Honestly...the first person I get to discuss my history with, and you can't even be bothered to pay attention. Don't test me, boy...you should be happy I'm still talking and not progressing to the next part of my plan already."**_

In that moment, Jack quickly decided that he did not want to find out what "the next part of the plan" might be.

Still, he cleared his throat and said warily, "I...assume that you're only telling me all this because you don't intend on letting me live." It was hardly a question.

The Fearling, however, surprised the young Guardian by merely laughing and shaking his head.  _ **"While it's true that I don't intend on letting you see the light of day again any time soon, why would I want to kill you...?"**_  he asked in an almost jovial tone, though his eyes glittered with malice.  _ **"...when I can simply use you instead?"**_

Jack's nerves were immediately set on edge by this eerie statement. "Er…'use me?'" he repeated apprehensively. "For...what?"

_**"For Fear, of course!"**  _the demon replied with a cruel smirk.  _ **"As I said before, you harbor plenty of it...it won't take much effort to draw it out of you. You, my friend, are going to be my personal Fear supply. I was content to feed off of Arios' fears and some of the others' anxieties for years...but now that I have a chance to grow my power further and get out from under this damn desert, I'm going to need much, MUCH more Fear. And to do that..."**_ He smiled. _ **"I need to break you."**_

The Fearling waited a moment for Jack to respond, but the boy had been struck speechless at the idea of being used essentially as a power source for the creature in front of him.  _He said he was going to draw Fear out of me…break me..._  the boy thought nervously.  _And unless I'm somehow mistaken, that…_  He gulped. . _..that means torture…_

When Jack did not speak, the demon tapped his chin lightly as though in thought.  _ **"Now...while your Fear might be more than enough for me alone, I doubt it could fuel the entire Nightmare Army. Which means...I might have to go along with the plan I've been toying with for a long time."**_

Jack didn't like the sound of that. "Which...is…?" he asked hesitantly.

The Fearling practically beamed, showing Jack his slightly pointed teeth once more.  _ **"I'm so glad you asked...have you, by chance, been wondering why I put so much effort into cultivating distrust in the hearts of many of the sprites down here?"**  _he asked.  _ **"Of course, feeding off their Fear for the time being is part of it...but I'd like to think that I'm capable of dreaming a bit bigger than that. Though...I am certainly fortunate that all the pieces have already been put in place for my use. You see, rumors that snow sprites wanted to revolt against the Tsar have already been spread across the land as part of the Nightmare King's original plan to ostracize them…"**_

Jack's eyes widened. "N-No…"

The monster grinned.  _ **"...so why not make such a revolution a reality? Just imagine the Fear that will come alongside a war with holders of arguably the most powerful magic in the tsardom...it will be absolutely delicious!"**_

Jack's immediate instinct was to lash out at the Fearling, to protest, to freeze him, to kick at him, to do something besides just hang there and react. However, he just barely managed to stop himself from doing so, foreseeing the laughs he would surely elicit from the creature should he attempt to fight in his sorry state.

Instead, the young sprite merely took a deep breath, narrowed his still-glowing eyes, and spoke with as much confidence as he could muster. "The Guardians will stop you."

His enemy smiled.  _ **"I'd like to see them try."**_  The Fearling finally stood, stretching a bit, then once again fixing Jack with his condescending yellow gaze.  _ **"Now, as fun as this has been, Guardian, I'm afraid our discussion is finished for now. In fact...all this talking has left me famished."**_  His eyes glinted cruelly as he stepped to the side, reaching up and grasping a lever on the wall.  _ **"...mind helping me remedy that?"**_

Before Jack could utter so much as a syllable, the Fearling pulled the lever, causing the chains attached to his shackles to rattle loudly. Then, without warning, they went slack, causing the boy to plunge into the pool of water beneath him without granting him any chance to hold his breath.

As such, it didn't take long for the decidedly too-hot water to fill his lungs.


	15. Underwater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I'm so sorry about being so late; I've had a lot of graduation parties to go to, then graduation itself, then Senior Week at the beach, and so I haven't had much time at all to write. Thankfully though, I'm here now!
> 
> Also, as a side note, I did go back and make a couple of edits on two previous chapters. It's nothing major, just a few extra details in Chapter 14 to make things flow better, as well as a brief note in Chapter 13 confirming that Zephyr is okay and being taken care of! Like I said, nothing too crazy, just a few things I felt I should add. Also...
> 
> WARNING: THIS IS WHERE THE JACK TORTURE STARTS. IT'S NOT REALLY THAT GRAPHIC YET, AND I'M NOT EVEN SURE THAT IT WILL BECOME TOO BAD, BUT I'D LIKE TO GIVE A BIT OF A HEADS UP ANYWAY, JUST IN CASE
> 
> With that being said, on with the chapter!

_ From the Journal of Arios Fletcher _

_ Because I am unsure of how to properly process my recent thoughts and feelings in their raw form, I have decided to transcribe them here, so as to hopefully make sense of my current mental state. _

_ For several years now, I have lacked a certain sense of...control, so to speak. I often find myself irritable and riled up, to the point where I will snap at my sister and ridicule my father. Admittedly, I am unsure as to how I feel about this...I know that it is not what I would have done in the past, and yet currently, I am unable to feel regret for my words and actions. Oddly enough, I almost seem to relish the unease that I cause my family with my anger. It...strengthens me. _

_ I believe that the most concerning thing about this is that I am unconcerned with this fact. _

_ I have not confided in my father about how I am feeling, though I have overheard him theorizing that my drastic change in demeanor was due to the trauma of witnessing my mother’s death firsthand. It is not an entirely unfounded theory, as it is true that that night marked the beginning of my change, but I cannot help but feel as though there is something more at play. _

_ I seem to perpetually feel the presence of a knot of anxiety in the pit of my stomach, and my distrust of those around me seems to have increased tenfold. In addition...I feel the need to share my paranoia with others. Already, Sera and Ferran of the council, as well as many others, have fallen victim to the fear. Shiro, Rayla, and my father have proven stubborn...as have others still. I do not know why I feel the need to convince them to succumb to fear, but instinct tells me that my survival depends on it. _

_ Perhaps I would have ultimately been able to do it if  _ **_they_ ** _ hadn’t come. The human cripple and the boy who claims to be a  _ **_Guardian_ ** _ , of all things. _

_ The very word makes my skin crawl… _

_ At the very least, I am grateful for the Fear that their arrival invoked in many of the others, even those I had failed to convince before. Yet something tells me that their influence must not be allowed to continue… _

_...why am I thinking like this? Why am I grateful for fear? Why...why do I so badly want to  _ **_hurt_ ** _ that Guardian? To...to make him suffer? To make him  _ **_fear_ ** _? To  _ **_break_ ** _ him and all of the others? _

_ … _

_ … _

_...what’s happening to me? _

**()()()()**

If Jack had currently been capable of coherent thought, he would have wondered how the water he was submerged in had gotten so hot without visibly boiling. Perhaps a product of some sort of strange magic, he would have supposed. He would have then attempted to get at least his head out of the water by grasping the chains attached to his wrist and trying to pull himself up.

However, as it so happened, due to his sudden lack of oxygen, scalded skin, and the artificial fear the Fearling sent coursing through him, he was most certainly not currently capable of coherent thought.

Thus, he panicked.

The boy thrashed about beneath the water’s surface, fruitlessly fighting to free himself. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly, but his mouth was open in a barely audible scream of pain, which only allowed more of the searing liquid to enter his lungs. The chains attached to his shackles had gone slack, allowing him to at least lower his arms (though the shackles around each wrist were fused together so that he could not separate his hands), but the weight of the metal prevented him from kicking his way up to the surface.

It only took a few seconds for Jack to feel sure that he was going to die.

On the contrary, however, it seemed as though the Fearling planned on keeping his promise to keep Jack alive. After no less than fifteen seconds that felt more like fifteen eternities under the water, Jack’s chains went taut and he was unceremoniously yanked back up to his previous position hanging above the pool.

Almost instantly, the young sprite fought to clear his lungs of the scalding hot water, coughing violently and roughly rattling about on the chains. As he desperately choked and spluttered, the Fearling cackled with pure, twisted glee.

**_“Wonderful, wonderful!”_ ** he exclaimed happily, grinning widely.  **_“Only the first little underwater trip and your fear is already building quite nicely!”_ ** The monster’s happy grin melted into a smug smirk.  **_“You’re going to be an even better power source than I expected. Who knows? Perhaps we’ll even be able to develop a few extra phobias in you while we’re at it! Wouldn’t that be fun? You would know...you said you’re the Guardian of Fun, correct?”_ **

Instead of answering the question, Jack glared mutely in the Fearling’s direction once he had regained some of his composure. The only response to the creature’s words he offered was a hushed, somewhat raspy,  _ “D-Damn...m-monster...g-go to h-hell...” _ His heat-assaulted throat burned as he spoke, but he tried to ignore the pain as much as he possibly could for now.

He had no doubt that there would be plenty more like it in the near future.

The Fearling merely snorted slightly in amusement.  **_“How rude,”_ ** he said, rolling his topaz-yellow eyes. He reached for the lever once again.  **_“It seems to me that you need to be taught some manners, Guardian.”_ **

This time, Jack was at least somewhat prepared for what was about to happen to him. He took as deep a breath as he possibly could as he plummeted back into the water, but the shock from the heat drew a rather unsuccessful gasp from his throat, leaving him once more without air as his body tried fruitlessly to expel the water from his lungs.

At this point, the boy had to force himself to acknowledge that any attempt to bring himself back up to the surface would doubtlessly fail. All he could really do was curl up on himself, shut his eyes tightly, and pray to all things holy that the Fearling wouldn’t change his mind about keeping him alive.

_ A-Although… _ Jack thought miserably.  _ If more of this is all that I have to look forward to...perhaps death would be kinder… _

Mere moments after the thought had crossed his mind, Jack banished it immediately. He would not let himself cave to the dark creature’s cruel tactics, especially not this early on. It was only a matter of time before his absence from New Iskald was noticed, and someone came looking for him. He would only need to bear the pain for a short amount of time.

Or so he told himself. Truthfully, he harbored an awful suspicion that the Fearling had already taken steps to prevent help from coming. He wasn’t sure what methods might have been used, but he knew that whatever they were, they were most certainly designed to make life much worse for Jack, and maybe even for Simon as well.

Still, he had to retain the hope that he would escape from the Fearling’s clutches soon. After all, he seemingly had no way of actually taking action to get himself out of...wherever the Fearling had taken him. Not for the first time in his life, Jack found himself completely helpless.

Thus, for the time being, with his wrists locked together and his magic smothered, hope was all he could hold onto.

After what felt like an even longer stretch of time than the first, Jack was once again roughly pulled back out of the pool. He took full advantage of his time in the air, ensuring that he coughed up as much water as he possibly could before the Fearling decided to pull the lever again.

**_“Ah, your helplessness is just adorable, if I’m being quite honest,”_ ** the Fearling taunted him with a smirk.  **_“A Guardian of Childhood reduced to nothing but a waterlogged child gasping for air. And by what? A blow to the head and some magic-sealing shackles? Ha! Pathetic...absolutely pathetic.”_ **

It was becoming increasingly more difficult for Jack to ignore the creature’s scorning, but he forced himself to hold his tongue. He refused to give the Fearling any more to work with than he already could take. Besides, he would need to conserve his strength if he was going to endure his current situation for long.

Soon, the Fearling seemed to once again grow bored of merely insulting the young Guardian, and so the accursed lever was pulled once more, dropping Jack into the pool for the third time.

The cycle continued for what could have only been a few minutes, but felt like several hours of being suffocated and scalded in the burning hot pool, then gasping for air in anticipation of being dropped once more. Ultimately, by Jack’s count, he hit the water a total of seventeen times.

By the end of it all, the boy was, quite frankly, exhausted. His lungs burned from the liquid constantly filling them, his arms and back ached from the force of repeatedly being pulled back up to his hanging position, and all of his skin was raw and stinging from the heat of the water. His clothes were waterlogged, adding to the weight that his weary arms were forced to continue to support--as such, he had managed to kick off his boots some time ago, but he had no way of doing the same for his soaked tunic.

Through the entire process, the Fearling never stopped laughing and taunting him, energized by the Fear that Jack fought fruitlessly to repress.  _ How the hell am I going to get out of here…? _ he thought numbly, trying to ignore the anxious lump in his throat.  _ With my hands tied and my magic gone...what am I supposed to do? Damn it...even as an immortal Guardian, I’m so goddamn useless… _

Not for the first time, he cursed himself for so foolishly falling into the Fearling’s trap.

**_“I notice that you've been awfully quiet over there, Guardian,”_ ** the Fearling commented with a smirk in Jack’s direction.  **_“No bluster? No telling me I’ll never get away with this? Not even any begging for mercy? Nothing at all?”_ **

Jack said nothing, merely spitting out the last of the water left in his mouth. Even if he had wanted to answer, he wasn’t sure that his burned throat would even permit speech. Thus, he kept his mouth firmly shut.

The Fearling rolled his eyes.  **_“For the self-proclaimed ‘Guardian of Fun,’ you certainly don’t know how to have any,”_ ** he scoffed.  **_“Or at the very least, you seem determined to deprive others of it.”_ **

Once again, Jack did not respond.

The young sprite’s silence only made the dark creature chuckle.  **_“Ah, well...even if you’re no fun, at least your Fear is easy to draw out,”_ ** he said nonchalantly.  **_“Oh, it’s so clear how much you’ve suffered over the years...I bet your broken spirit would provide me with plenty of energy even without any coaxing!”_ ** The Fearling laughed.  **_“Of course...I need all the strength I can get if I’m going to help the Nightmare King return and bring this tsardom to its knees, so...well, you know how it is.”_ **

If the Fearling’s intention had been to discourage Jack, then it had not been a successful attempt. If anything, his final comment only served to strengthen the boy’s resolve.

_ I cannot allow myself to fall here… _ he told himself silently.  _ As it stands, I am the only one who knows of this Fearling’s intentions...I don’t know how, but I must endure long enough to escape in whatever way I can. This monster has made the mistake of talking far too much...I need to relay his plans to the other Guardians at any cost. _

**_“However,”_** the Fearling drawled, shaking Jack from his thoughts. **_“I must admit, I’m growing bored of simply doing the same thing over and over and over again...what do you say we change things up a bit, hm?”_** The creature smirked and put a hand on the lever. **_“You just relax down there until I need you again, alright?”_**

Jack’s eyes widened, and he only barely managed to suck in a deep breath before he was once again sent plummeting into the pool beneath him. The sting of the heated water on his already-raw skin seemed almost familiar at this point, but said familiarity didn’t stop him from wincing sharply in pain, practically curling in on himself underwater.

_ All I can do now… _ he thought numbly, eyes squeezed shut tight.  _...is wait for him to pull me back up... _

Unfortunately, Jack’s air supply did not last long enough for him to experience that moment. When the Fearling finally did yank his limp form back up to the surface, the boy had already fallen unconscious.


	16. Needle Points

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Gahhh, I'm so sorry that I kept you waiting for so long! I've been super busy lately with social stuff, pre-college stuff, and lots of personal anxiety stuff. :( But hopefully, I'll be able to pull myself together soon and make for more regular updates! For now...on with the chapter! Still contains torture, by the way, so...just be aware of that.

**** When Jack finally came to, the first thing he noticed was that there was no longer copious amounts of water building up in his lungs. He couldn’t remember if he had somehow coughed it all up at some point, or if the Fearling had stopped him from drowning, but he was relieved to realize that his breathing was no longer prohibited.

That, however, was the only relief he could find.

He very quickly also realized that the pain that permeated his entire body had significantly increased since the last time he was conscious. Not only was his skin still stinging badly from the scalding water, but the aches in his muscles also seemed to have worsened, likely from his continued time in his extremely uncomfortable hanging position.

Now, however, his position seemed even less desirable. Upon opening his eyes and restoring their dark-vision glow, he noticed that, not only were his limbs now suspended at odd, bent angles, his whole body contorting most uncomfortably to match, but he was also being precariously held in place by dozens upon dozens of needle-thin ice spikes surrounding his slender form, their pointed tips already painfully digging into his arms, legs, and back. His heart beat rapidly as his eyes darted around, trying fruitlessly to properly see through the veritable wall of spikes that surrounded his body on all sides.

If he dared to move even an inch, he would surely be mercilessly impaled.

Even breathing seemed dangerous at this point, as every rise of Jack’s chest brought it dangerously close to the pointed ice tips just above that spot. Already, they had littered the front of his tunic with tiny, pinprick holes, and with each breath, he could feel them just barely scrape across his skin. It wasn’t quite enough to actually draw blood, but more than enough of a promise to do so should he attempt further movement.

After a few tense moments of silence, Jack realized that a small space around his mouth had been left clear, likely to permit speech. The boy’s glowing eyes narrowed ever so slightly.  _ That jabbermouth of a Fearling just isn’t content unless he’s able to hold a conversation, is he? _ he thought bitterly.  _ Although I’m sure what he really wants is for me to beg and plead for mercy...as if doing so would even be worth the breath spent. _

Suddenly, as though summoned by his thoughts, a cruelly jovial voice suddenly sounded from somewhere in front of him.  **_“Ah, you’re awake, I see! Tell me, how are you enjoying the new accomodations?”_ **

Jack scowled.  _ Speak of the devil… _

**_“I spent quite a lot of time on them, you know. I must say, it wasn’t easy making those ice spikes so thin without breaking them. Ah…”_ ** The Fearling chuckled lightly.  **_“Possessing a vessel with natural ice magic is even more useful than I thought it would be! It gives me the chance to properly bring my creative vision to life...and of course, I’ve always been one to jump at the chance to do that.”_ **

“Well, you’ve certainly got a flair for the dramatic,” Jack mumbled sarcastically, trying to ignore the pain his rasping voice brought to his throat.

Though the young sprite still couldn’t properly see the Fearling from his position due to the ice in his way, he could practically hear the smirk in the dark creature’s voice as he spoke again.  **_“It’s true; I’ve always had more of a taste for style than many of my brethren do. They’re willing to go for more traditional tactics of drawing out Fear…why, I’m sure that any one of them would simply be content with doing nothing but clawing away at you as you screamed. But as for me...I’ve quickly realized that the richest Fear comes from the most creatively horrifying scenarios. And rest assured, dear Guardian...I have plenty more up my sleeve for you.”_ **

Jack would be lying if he claimed he didn’t have to suppress a shudder at the Fearling’s last statement.  _ Just my luck...of all the Fearlings I could have been captured by, I get the most morbidly creative one possible. _

“You talk too much, Fearling,” the young Guardian hissed. “Your monologues make it difficult to take you seriously.”

The Fearling laughed.  **_“Oh, you’ll take me seriously soon enough, Guardian, I assure you,”_ ** he said calmly.  **_“For now, I’ve simply been enjoying the conversation! I can’t remember a time before now when I’ve been able to freely converse this much...forgive me for wanting to treasure it.”_ **

Jack merely rolled his eyes in contempt.

**_“Speaking of…”_ ** the monster continued.  **_“I’ve been rather excited to share this bit of information with someone...I’ve thought of a name for myself! Would you like to hear it?”_ **

“No,” the sprite deadpanned.

Unfortunately, he was promptly ignored.  **_“Well,”_ ** the Fearling began, his smirk once again almost audible in his voice.  **_“I realized that, as aggravating as Onyx always was, her chosen name was certainly admirable. Named after a stone as black as the night...it was almost poetic, yes?”_ **

_ I wonder if this is part of the torture, _ Jack thought dully.

**_“Naturally, I wanted my own name to be of a similar ilk...so I began to think. I first considered ‘Obsidian,’ though eventually deemed it too gaudy. ‘Shadow,’ of course, was a bit too on the nose...then ‘Midnight’ was too feminine, and ‘Ebony’ even more so. However...the last one had me thinking. While undesirable in its current form, it did produce a certain...dark and elegant sort of effect. Perhaps all it required was a slight tweaking?”_ ** He chuckled slightly.  **_“And thus...with the removal of one letter, I had found my proper name...Ebon.”_ **

“...Ebon,” Jack repeated dryly.  _ All that grandeur for something as simple as a name...I suppose they’re held in much higher regard for creatures that usually go nameless. _

**_“Indeed!”_ ** “Ebon” confirmed, sounding quite pleased with himself.  **_“I, personally, quite like it. And, as I’m sure the Nightmare King will no doubt allow me to use it upon his return...you may refer to me as such from now on, alright, Guardian?”_ **

Jack scowled slightly. “I have a name too, you know,” he growled, making a point of ignoring the Fearling’s request. “You don’t need to keep calling me ‘Guardian.’”

However, just as Jack had ignored Ebon, Ebon ignored Jack in return. Instead, he merely asked,  **_“So...how are you feeling now, Guardian?”_ **

Through gritted teeth, the young sprite bitterly replied, “Just fantastic, Fearling.”

It was a lie, obviously. Jack may have been somewhat accustomed to pain due to encountering many sprite hunters during his time on the run (and not escaping unscathed from many of the meetings), but he had decided that what he felt now was in a league of its own. Not only was the pain nearly constantly wrenching its way through his entire body, but he couldn’t even move into a more comfortable position. At the very least, the frigidity of the ice didn’t bother him, of course, but unfortunately, his immunity to the cold did nothing to guard him against the spikes’ painful tips.

The boy found himself wincing as the needle-like edges dug into his skin, though the movement, however slight, only served to let the pointed ice sink a bit deeper into his back and shoulders. He might have imagined it, but he could have sworn he felt droplets of blood begin to streak their way down his shoulderblades.

_ How much more of this will I have to bear…? _ Jack thought nervously, biting down on his lip hard to keep himself from making a sound.  _ He’s barely put in any effort, and already I can scarcely remember the last time I wasn’t in such pain...what the hell could he be planning next…? _

Not for the first time, Jack felt a knot of fear begin to form deep within him, but he fought as hard as he could to ignore it. He had to persevere. He had to retain his mind and will. He had to survive this encounter and make it back to tell the other Guardians.

He had no other choice.

Unfortunately, keeping calm was no easy feat with a Fearling constantly taunting him.  **_“What’s the matter, Guardian?”_ ** he asked smugly.  **_“I’m sensing quite a bit of repressed Fear...are a few ice needles too much for you? Ha! I never thought a Guardian of Childhood would be so soft...I suppose they truly were acting out of desperation when they recruited you, hm?”_ **

_ Now he’s beginning to turn to mind games… _ Jack thought numbly.  _ No...no problem. All I need to do is acknowledge the fact that he’s trying to mess with my head, and simply not listen to him. I have no reason to fall for his lies… _

Never mind the fact that the dark creature was more than likely to delve into his mind and pick apart each and every one of the young sprite’s wide array of insecurities. Jack forced himself not to think of the possibility, no matter how nauseatingly plausible it was.

“Tell me, Fearling,” Jack began, somehow managing to keep his voice from wavering. “Exactly what is preventing me from purposely allowing myself to be impaled through the heart? All it would take is one quick movement...and then you’ve lost your power source.”

Ebon gave a light chuckle accompanied by a shrug.  **_“Well,”_ ** he replied.  **_“Technically, you’re right. Nothing is physically stopping you from doing that. No...it’s your force of will that’s preventing you from resorting to suicide. You still want to have a chance of escaping, no? To get out of here and warn the Guardians about me?”_ **

Jack suppressed a flinch.  _ Am I really so transparent…? _ he wondered.  _ Though I suppose that thought process is only logical, given the situation… _

The boy took a deep breath and continued. “I...won’t deny that the thought has crossed my mind,” he answered carefully. “But...you seem rather unconcerned about it. Perhaps you know something I don’t?”

If the Fearling noticed Jack’s further attempts at probing, it didn’t say so. Instead, it merely said in response,  **_“Perhaps. But rest assured...by the time I’m done with you, even if you do somehow manage to escape, you won’t be able to tell them anything.”_ **

Jack stiffened, eyes narrowing. “What, do you intend to cut out my tongue?”

To the sprite’s surprise, this merely made Ebon laugh.  **_“Hardly!”_ ** he exclaimed.  **_“Far too simple for my tastes. No, Guardian, you’ll simply have to wait and see.”_ ** The monster chuckled darkly.  **_“I promised to break you, and I’m a man of my word.”_ **

“You’re more of a monster than a man,” Jack spat, a scowl once again coming to his face, not only to convey his anger, but also to hide his fear. “And a monster that talks far too much, at that.”

Ebon laughed again, but it sounded significantly more sinister, rather than the Fearling’s previous jovial tones.  **_“Oh, poor, little Guardian…”_ ** he taunted softly.  **_“I may be a monster, true. But little do you know...you’ll practically be begging to hear my voice before long…”_ **

Feeling his anxiety begin to rise once more, Jack gritted his teeth and practically growled, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Frustratingly enough, Ebon merely snickered slightly and waved a hand. Suddenly, at least twenty of the ice needles surrounding Jack surged forward, causing him to cry out in pain as they pierced his skin, many of them forcing their way right through his thin form and appearing, bloodied, on the other side. The boy’s body convulsed with the pain that now permeated the entirety of it, which only caused more of the spikes to mercilessly puncture him.

Thankfully, it did not appear as though any important organs had been pierced by the ice, but Moon above, it  _ hurt _ . It was as if Ebon had painstakingly calculated the precise spots on the body where the chance of lethality would be lowest, but where the pain would be the absolute worst. And, by the Fearling’s smug declaration of,  **_“Possessing the son of a doctor has its perks, you know!”_ ** , that appeared to be exactly the case.

Even when the ice needles retracted, the pain still remained. Jack let out another agonized gasp as every spike suddenly vanished altogether, leaving nothing to hold him in place and allowing him to sway precariously from his chains. Letting out a string of hushed curses, the boy struggled to lessen his momentum, but even his most desperate efforts produced few results, so he was forced to wait for the chains to come to rest on their own.

**_“I tire of you, Guardian,”_ ** Ebon drawled nonchalantly, as though he wasn’t currently watching a pained, bleeding sprite flail before him.  **_“Besides, I can’t risk disappearing for too long...wouldn’t want my plans to go awry hm?”_ **

Out of spite, Jack didn’t bother answering.

Either completely apathetic or simply oblivious, Ebon continued.  **_“I’ve had my fun with you for now, but right here is where the true entertainment begins.”_ ** His yellow eyes glinted with a cold light briefly before suddenly shifting back to the cobalt blue of a snow sprite. He smiled amicably, speaking with only Arios’ voice once more. “If I’m truly going to shatter your spirit, first, I need to make you susceptible. If I’m right...it should only take a few days.”

Trying his best to push down the pain, Jack frowned.  _ A few days…? _ he thought numbly.  _ What does he mean by…? _

Ignoring Jack’s visible confusion, the dark creature turned his back and made for the door. Then, as if as an afterthought, he glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “See you then.”

Without another word, Ebon exited the room, shutting and locking the door behind him, as though it made any difference to Jack. At first, he let his shoulders sag in relief, but then suddenly, without the overly-conversational Fearling there, the silence in the cell seemed almost deafening. Wordlessly, the boy glanced around the dark room, feeling his nervousness steadily growing. Suddenly, his physical pain didn’t seem to be the most pressing issue anymore.

Jack gulped.

He had a feeling he was going to be left alone for a long time.


	17. Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! ...I swear I'll get this schedule thing right someday. I've just been dealing with a lot of stressful stuff lately, and...yeah. I promise I'm trying! Either way...let's get to the chapter, shall we?
> 
> WARNING: THINGS ARE GETTING DARK HERE. KEEP THIS IN MIND MOVING FORWARD.

**** _ From the Journal of Arios Fletcher _

_ Something has happened. _

_ Unfortunately...I do not know exactly what. All I know for certain is that there has recently been a worryingly long stretch of time during which I can’t remember a thing. _

_ The previous entry in this journal bears the date of two days ago...and yet finishing it is the last action I can recall performing. When I attempt to think of what I have done yesterday and most of today, I draw a complete blank. _

_ I cannot help but fear the possibilities of what might have caused this strange memory lapse. Perhaps I was hexed? Poisoned? Drugged? But to what end? And why does no one seem concerned? _

_ Truthfully, I haven’t left my room since I “awakened,” so to speak. I use the term tentatively, as I do not believe I was asleep before my conscious thought returned to me. I was merely sitting up straight at the edge of my bed when I suddenly realized that I could not remember how I had gotten there. It was a strange sensation...but I digress. _

_ I have not left my room since my odd awakening, so I have not spoken with any others about my condition. In truth, I find myself overcome with a strange feeling of fright every time I stand with the intention to exit...some unfamiliar anxiety is preventing me from going to seek someone else’s opinion. Perhaps those that call me paranoid are correct, but...I cannot shake the feeling that I definitely should not leave my room. _

_ Well...no one has come to search for me, so all must be well, yes? Or perhaps others are afraid as well...that would be beneficial to me. _

_ But...why would it, again? _

_ Ach, my memory may be failing more than I initially realized...it is as though there is some sort of barrier within my mind that is blocking off certain memories. But...was it intentionally placed there by an outside force? Or is this some sort of illness? And what of my oddly increased fear; could that be another symptom of whatever it is I have fallen victim to? If so, how do I fix it? Do I even want to fix it? My own mind seems to be trying to reassure me that everything is alright...but from a logical standpoint, this situation is far from alright. _

_ Mhm...I feel a headache coming. I will have to look into this phenomenon more closely later, after some rest. _

**()()()()**

Time passed. Of that, Jack was certain.

Unfortunately, however, he had no idea exactly how much had passed since Ebon had left the room. Ordinarily, he possessed a solid concept of time; he had hardly had much access to clocks or any other timekeeping devices during his years on the run, so he had gotten used to going without. However, the boy was now so disoriented and exhausted that he found himself unable to gauge exactly how long he had been hanging there, muscles aching and blood trickling down his body, some of it eventually dripping into the pool below. For all he knew, it could have only been an hour or two.

Though the fact that he had begun hearing things made him assume it had been far longer.

Granted, it wasn’t much at first. Merely the occasional thump, creak, or unintelligible whisper that certainly wouldn’t have been possible in an empty underground room with not another soul anywhere near him. Knowing that the “noises” were likely only the result of his frustratingly unstimulated mind trying to make something up for him to focus on, he forced his attention to remain on the one sound he knew was real: that of his own ragged breathing.

For some reason, as exhausted as he was, Jack found himself unable to fall asleep. It may have simply been because of his strange, uncomfortable position, but the young sprite had a sneaking suspicion that Ebon had stealthily laid some sort of curse on him at some point before leaving in order to torture him further.

He gulped nervously.  _ No doubt he’s hoping that I lose my mind completely… _ he thought, trying fruitlessly to stop his ears from twitching at the imaginary whisper he thought he heard just behind him.  _ Not only am I confined to a dark room with nothing but my own thoughts, likely susceptible to any Fearling mind games, while my arms are nearly pulled out of their sockets from having to support me for so long...but I’m also unable to sleep...oh, if Sandy could see me now… _

Suddenly, he paused in his thoughts, blinking as a thought came to him.  _ Hm...maybe the other Guardians can’t see me now, but perhaps I can see them? What was that clairvoyance spell Lily used…? _

Tentatively, he cleared his throat and said softly,  _ “C-Clair--” _ He stopped, wincing. Not only was his throat burning beyond belief, but even his raspy whisper of a voice sounded far too loud to him after the extended silence of the cell. Even the imagined noises were hardly anything compared to any actual sounds, it seemed.

Regardless, Jack took a deep breath and steeled himself for another attempt. As confidently as he could possibly manage in his current state (which wasn’t much, unfortunately), he recited,  _ “Clairvoyus...Nicholas St. North.” _

Nothing happened, save for a slight twinge in his wrists.

He sighed.  _ Of course… _ he thought grimly.  _ Magic-sealing shackles...I suppose they don’t only seal my natural magic, hm? _

Idly, he wondered if it was possible that the other Guardians knew the clairvoyance charm as well, and if they could see him now. Seconds later, however, that theory was quashed by the memory of Dr. Fletcher claiming that the entirety of the underground city was cloaked in anti-detection charms. He could only assume that those charms covered his current cell as well...wherever exactly he happened to be in relation to the rest of New Iskald.

_ Besides… _ he acknowledged with a frown.  _ If they had been able to find me, they would have already come for me, and I would be out of here by now. _

_ “If they even want to find you,” _ an alarmingly clear voice whispered in his ear, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

His sudden jerk of shock sent pain coursing through his whole body, leaving him unable to suppress a strained yelp as he struggled to stop his swaying from his chains. It did not take him too terribly long to recover physically, but mentally, it was another story altogether.

_ “W-What...th-the hell…!?” _ he hissed under his breath as his heart pounded in his chest. His glowing eyes darted every which way, trying to ascertain whether or not he truly was alone.

Sure enough, he could see no sign of life anywhere in the darkness. This revelation, however, was far from comforting.

_ Alright… _ he internally began, desperately trying to set his frenzied thoughts back in order.  _ No one is here aside from me...which means that either Ebon is playing tricks from the shadows...or I’m...beginning to lose my mind… _

Though he greatly hoped the answer was not the latter, he was forced to acknowledge the fact that he had not spoken his last thoughts about the Guardians aloud. Unless Ebon was somehow telepathic...Jack’s mind was the only thing to blame for the voices that threatened to haunt him.

The boy suddenly flinched as a heavy footstep thudded behind him. For a moment, he thought that the Fearling had returned through an alternate entrance, but a quick glance over the shoulder told him that there was nothing but a solid wall on that side of the room. The pool he was hanging over took up the entierty the floor of that half of the cell--no one could have taken any kind of step there.

_ Keep it together, Jack... _ he thought nervously as he faced forward once more.  _ Your mind’s only playing tricks on you...your mind and that damn Fearling, that is...that’s all…nothing to worry about for now...just...hold out until this is all over... _

But no matter what he told himself, he could not shake the feeling that things would soon get much, much worse.

**()()()()**

He was now convinced that it had, in fact, been several days since he was first left alone. Perhaps even a week. Or longer.

Time felt nonexistent in the dark cell. An eternity could have passed and Jack would have been none the wiser.

All he knew was that the hallucinations had gotten worse.

Indeed, after an indeterminate amount of time, he had finally allowed himself to admit that what he was experiencing were indeed hallucinations. Whether brought on from some dark magic Ebon had cast or from his own deteriorating mind (or a combination of the two), he didn’t know, but he could not deny the fact that he was being tormented by things that, quite simply, were not there.

Though they had started out as quick, meaningless snippets of sound, they soon escalated to the point where, had he not known better, he would have been absolutely sure that someone was whispering in his ear or scraping the walls of the room with a blade. Eventually, desperate to block out the imagined noises, Jack began quietly singing to himself, even at the protest of his ragged throat.

“R-Run, run, r-run away…”

_ “You’ll never get out of here alive,” _ he heard a low voice say.

“B-Buy yourself a-another d-day…”

A few footsteps sounded off to the left.

“A c-cold wind’s wh-whispering...s-secrets in y-your...ear…”

He flinched as the voice once again whispered,  _ “Why bother trying to stay sane?” _

“S-So low o-only y-you can...h-hear…”

He heard the distinct sound of a blade being sharpened.

“R-Run...run...r-run and h-hide…”

_ “Won’t you feel better if you just let your mind go?” _

“S-Somewhere n-no one else c-can...f-find…”

A splash sounded somewhere below him.

“T-Tall trees...b-bend and l-lean...p-pointing where t-to...g-go…”

_ “Going mad sounds like an easier fate than being aware enough to think about how much you’re suffering.” _

“W-Where y-you will s-still be a-all...a-alone…”

_ “You  _ **_are_ ** _ alone, aren’t you…? And yet you’re hearing voices. You’ve fallen far…” _

“D-Don’t y-you fret, m-my dear…”

_ “What, are you about to cry?” _

“I-It’ll a-all be o-over...s-soon…”

_ “No, it won’t be.” _

“I-I’ll be w-waiting here…”

A single tear rolled down Jack’s face.

“F-For you…”

**()()()()**

After the last echoing notes of the old song from his memories had faded from the cell, Jack had broken down crying with an intensity that he hadn’t experienced since his first couple of years on the run. He had been little more than a scared child then, and was beginning to feel quite similar to one now.

He was helpless, hurt, frightened, and quite possibly losing his mind.

To hell with his usual emotional repression. For once, he felt that his tears were completely justified rather than shameful and weak.

Perhaps such a feeling was merely brought on by his deteriorating mental state, but at present, he found himself unable to care. His apathy was so great, in fact, that even when the door to the cell finally opened once more, he made no effort to quiet his sobs. Instead, he merely lifted his head weakly and stared through blurred eyes at the figure in the doorway.

**_“Why, hello there, Guardian!”_ ** Ebon called out, a wide grin on his pale face as his yellow eyes flashed.  **_“Have you been enjoying your time alone?”_ **

Jack did not say a word, but Ebon didn’t seem to mind.

**_“By the way, that was a beautiful song you were singing earlier!”_ ** the Fearling chuckled with a condescending smirk.  **_“Such a shame it had to be marred by your voice. Honestly, you sound awful! Almost like your throat’s been burned!”_ **

While the monster laughed, Jack once again did not even attempt to respond.

Ebon still seemed unbothered by the boy’s silence as he finished laughing and stepped forward with a grin.  **_“I know your alone time must be fun, but I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a change of plans.”_ ** His smile took on a distinctly sinister air to it as he took a few steps even closer.

Ebon’s face was now only inches away from Jack’s own. Jack idly wondered how this was possible with the pool separating the two of them, but didn’t try to investigate.

**_“Instead of keeping you alive...I’m going to have to dispose of you instead,”_ ** Ebon whispered darkly.

Suddenly, a flash of intense pain through his abdomen caused another painful sob to tear itself from Jack’s throat. The young sprite looked down, panicked, to find a dagger now lodged in his midsection, blood already oozing out from the wound.

With a jovial laugh, Ebon roughly yanked the dagger back out, then plunged it in again a little to the left, prompting Jack to cry out in pain once more.

The boy wept and wept as the dagger pierced his stomach, his side, his arms, his legs, his chest, and finally his throat, and though the pain was nothing short of blinding, he simply couldn’t seem to die. Even when thick, dark blood coated his entire body, when it blurred his vision and flooded into his mouth, he still lived. Even when the stench of the blood suffocated him, he still breathed. Even when the organ had surely been torn to shreds by the razor-sharp blade, his heart still beat.

And through it all, Ebon’s laughter never once ceased, nor did Jack’s sobbing.

For what felt like forever, pain and blood was all he knew.

Then, all of a sudden, everything stopped.

There was no laughter, no blood, no dagger...the pain still persisted, but he suddenly realized that it was merely a result of his continued hanging position. Otherwise, all he had left were the tears.

Breathing heavily, Jack opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. No one was there. The room was still silent, the pool was still undisturbed, the door was still tightly shut, and his body was still intact.

It had never happened.

Jack suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He lowered his head, trembling with shock, fear, and uncertainty. It was becoming nauseatingly clear that he could no longer trust even his own senses. It terrified him.

He was forced to accept that he was entirely helpless in this situation. He had no control to speak of, not even over his own mind. Even now, he could barely formulate more than one, singular timid thought.

_ I-I want to go home… _


	18. Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Yay, I actually didn't screw up my schedule this week! ...sort of. It's a few minutes past midnight where I am, but...oh well, close enough XD Anyway, let's get to it!
> 
> ALSO! Just like with RFL, I'm currently in the process of putting together a soundtrack for this story...if any of you can think of a song or songs that you think fit with this story, go ahead and suggest them, and I'll see if I agree! Thank you!

**** After Ebon, Jack found himself receiving many more visitors in his cell. Every so often, the door would open and reveal a familiar face, each of them always behaving in their own different ways.

Ebon, of course, always came to hurt him. Sometimes he would drop him back into the pool beneath him, sometimes he would cast dark spells to expel all the air from his lungs or contort his aching limbs in strange ways, all while relentlessly taunting him for struggling, and sometimes he would just walk right over and kill him. That was how Jack had learned to tell the real Ebon apart from the imagined one. The real Fearling always kept him alive.

Whenever Simon showed up, it would be to try to help Jack escape. He always somehow had the key to the shackles around the boy’s wrists, and the archer usually managed to get him down eventually, though Jack was never quite sure how. Unfortunately, Jack would always come back to his senses just before the escape attempts could come to fruition. Once, Simon put him on his back and had run halfway down the hall with him until Jack blinked and realized that he was still hanging in the cell. Jack always idly wondered how the real Simon was doing each time that the imagined one left, before his thoughts were lost once again in the confusion that was now his mind.

Sometimes, he’d see Zephyr standing next to him (even though he was fairly certain that horses couldn’t normally stand on water), nickering and nudging at him worriedly. Every once in a while, the stallion even had a voice, and would tell Jack that he missed him, and that he wanted him to come back so they could ride together again. Jack sometimes tried to answer, but his voice wasn’t really working anymore. His heart was never quite in it.

When North appeared, he’d never really look at Jack. It was almost as though the man had no idea he was even there. All he would do was pace sadly around the room, looking dejected, as though he had lost something and did not think he would ever get it back. Jack wondered if the real North missed him this much. He wasn’t sure anyone would.

Aster often came to shout at Jack. The boy didn’t pay much attention to what the Pooka said, but every time, without fail, he would find himself in tears at the end of the tirade. He figured that it must be his fault that he had gotten himself into this situation, though he didn’t remember much about how it had started. Whatever insults that Aster shouted at him, he was sure that he deserved them.

Tooth was always kind when she came to visit. She would hover next to him, holding his hand and gently telling him that she and the others would come rescue him soon. She’d hug him and allow him to cry on her shoulder, much like a mother would for her son. Jack never thought he was worthy of such kindness, but he liked her visits.

Sandy also brought a tiny ray of light with him whenever he came. He would do his best to make Jack smile by putting on little shows with animals made of dreamsand (though it never worked), and when he was done, he would float up and hug him much like Tooth did. His presence was calming, and sometimes, Jack wished he could speak again so that he could thank the little golden man.

Though he didn’t initially expect it, Jack was especially fearful of whenever his little sister showed up in the cell. It was never the version of her that he liked to remember (a white-haired, blue-eyed little girl with endless enthusiasm and curiosity), but instead the terrified brunette he had met years after his village was destroyed. Without fail, she would always end up bleeding out on the floor in front of him. Sometimes, the charred corpses of his parents joined her.

Usually, Onyx would appear once his sister had died. She would taunt him in her silky, poisonous voice, reminding him over and over again that he had failed to protect Olivia. Then, she would thrust her dagger into his own chest for good measure. She too often brought him to tears.

On rare occasions, even the Nightmare King himself would make an appearance in the cell. Unlike most of the others, he never spoke a word, nor even moved a muscle. Pitch Black would merely stand there in the darkness, staring at Jack with his unsettling amber eyes until the young sprite was sobbing and shaking with fright. He could never fully recover after these particular visits.

Strangely enough, though most of the visitors notably showed up multiple times, there was one in particular who only came to him once. Lily Callia, New Iskald’s resident magic expert, was among the most recent people to visit him. Not only was he confused as to why someone he barely knew would take the time to come see him, he found the way she acted rather strange.

Lily had entered the room cautiously, as though expecting to be attacked, and when she saw him hanging there, she had gasped in abject horror. Her eyes had begun to glow as she searched the dark room for something, then she had rushed over to him.

_ “Jack! Oh, Moon above...w-what’s he done to you!?” _

Jack, of course, hadn’t responded, merely gazing back at her with vacant, dim eyes. He was so tired...Ebon still hadn’t allowed him to sleep. His immortality was likely the only reason he hadn’t died yet.

_ “L-Listen, I don’t have much time...I’ve been incredibly suspicious of Arios for the past two weeks now, and last week, I tried to confront him about it. He responded by blatantly threatening me and...and he forced me to stay quiet about it…” _

Jack still hadn’t responded. He had nothing to say to an imaginary visitor. Or anyone at this point, for that matter.

_ “A-Anyway...he’s imprisoned Simon once again, and I think he’s done something to Cynthia as well...and he told everyone you betrayed us and are lurking somewhere, waiting to attack. Not many believe it, but people’s minds are starting to be changed by their fear…” _

Jack’s face had held no expression. He’d barely even moved.

_ “I started tailing him a few days ago...subtly, so he wouldn’t notice. I discovered that he’s been using a secret route out of the city, which...leads to this cell. Unfortunately, I have no doubt he’ll carry out his...his threats if he finds me here, so I had to wait until he was preoccupied with other matters to come investigate here. I’m afraid I must leave now before he returns...but I promise you, I’ll tell Dr. Fletcher about this, and then I’ll magically contact the Guardians of Childhood like you asked me to before. I’ll do it in secret, and I’ll tell them where we are. I know many won’t like it...but whatever’s happening can’t keep going on! Goodbye for now...I’m so sorry I have to leave you here, but...I promise, help is on the way.” _

After that, she too had vanished. Though...there was something strange about her exit, and for the longest time, Jack had been unable to figure out why.

Then, suddenly, it hit him.

While the other visitors simply disappeared, Lily had used the door.

**()()()()**

Later, something entirely new happened; Jack received multiple visitors at once.

Ebon arrived alone at first, and had proceeded to perform his usual sadistic routine of dunking him in the water pool and repeatedly hexing him in various painful ways, each effect more “creative” than the last, as Ebon had put it. Soon, however, the door burst open once again, and not even the Fearling seemed to expect it.

The monster stiffened, his slightly-pointed teeth clenching as his yellow eyes narrowed. He did not, however, turn around to see who the three new visitors were. Instead, as though somehow already knowing who had come, he spoke, using only Arios’ voice.

_ “...Father.” _

_ “Arios! What the hell is the meaning of all this!? What have you done!?” _

_ “What I had to. I’ve only been protecting our city, Father.” _

_ “Protecting it? You’ve been terrorizing it! Convincing everyone poor Jack was a traitor...locking up Simon again to reinforce the idea that humans are evil...you’ve driven the whole place mad!” _

_ “...” _

_ “Well!? Do you have anything to say for yourself!?” _

_ “...how did you find this place?” _

_ “I will not say.” _

_ “Tch...protecting a rat, are we? No matter...I’m already certain it was Callia.” _

_ “It was not--!” _

_ “Don’t waste your breath, fool. You can hide nothing from me. I see all that goes on in the shadows.” _

_ “...Arios...my son...what’s happened to you…?” _

_ “Ha...please.” _ Ebon’s yellow eyes flashed.  **_“I am no son of yours.”_ **

_ “W-What the--!?” _

**_“What a terrible father...never once noticing that his son was possessed, even after all these years…”_ **

_ “P-Possessed…Arios, w-what…?” _

**_“Oh, and the name is Ebon, by the way. Not Arios.”_ **

_ “I...I...guards! Seize this demon!” _

**_“...”_ **

_ “...w-wait, why--?” _

**_“Oh, did I forget to mention? Yes...all of the New Iskald guards currently answer to me. That being said...guards. Seize this foolish man.”_ **

_ “Wha--unhand me at once!” _

**_“Not going to happen. You see...I’m afraid you’ve witnessed a bit too much here. Sure, I could keep you here and torture you as well...I’m sure your Fear would’ve been remarkably satisfying, but...ah, well, too many disappearances would get suspicious. No...I think instead, I’ll use you.”_ **

_ “U-Use me for what!?” _

**_“For my plan, of course! My plan to turn the rest of the sprites here against the outside world...the Guardians and Tsar Lunar especially. Yes...you’ll be the perfect martyr for my revolution. Just think! The city’s kindly doctor brutally murdered by not only the first outsider to come across this place in the last six years, but the newest Guardian of Childhood to boot! Ah, it’s almost poetic!”_ **

_ “Y-You...you’re mad if you think anyone will believe you!” _

**_“Oh, please...I’m a Fearling, Fletcher. One with a flair for the dramatic, at that. With the right props...well, I’ll have no issues.”_ **

_ “N-No...don’t do this...Arios, you must listen!” _

**_“Ebon. Not Arios. Ebon. Honestly...I shouldn’t have to remind you this much.”_ **

_ “Arios, I’m your father! Would you really kill your own father!? What about your sister!? What about everyone else in the city!? Would you really plunge all of them into a needless war!?” _

**_“Ugh...still not listening. Arios might not do this, but I, Ebon, would. Got it? Oh, and about that little girl...your daughter, yes? No need to worry too much about her. I’ve only cast a prolonged sleeping curse on her to keep her from talking...she isn’t dead, and yet she won’t have to live through the war! Happy now?”_ **

_ “Y-You son of a bitch!” _

**_“Wow, and you still think I’m Arios, right? That seems like a bit of an insult to your dead wife...ah, well. No matter. How about I send you to join her so you can apologize?”_ **

_ “W-Wait--!” _

**_“No more waiting. Goodbye, now.”_ **

Jack watched lifelessly as Ebon rapidly drew a dagger made from pure ice and plunged it into Dr. Fletcher’s chest, intentionally just barely missing his heart. The doctor gasped, then coughed violently, blood spraying from his mouth as Ebon pulled the blade back out of the wound. The two guards let Dr. Fletcher fall to the floor, where he lay coughing and convulsing for a few moments as his life poured out of him.

_ “A-Arios...w-why…” _

That was all he managed to choke out before his body finally went still.

Ebon scoffed and tossed the ice knife down next to his motionless form.

**_“Hm...stubborn until the very end, eh? Oh well...you two, back to your stations. I’ll deliver the body into the city through the shadows. Act surprised when you see it. I’ll take care of the theatrics from there.”_ **

The guards nodded, then immediately left the cell. Ebon remained for a few seconds more, turning to look at Jack.

**_“That is what happens to those who cross me. And if your precious Guardians come after you...rest assured, they will suffer the same fate.”_ **

The Fearling raised his hands and closed his eyes.

**_“Clairvoyas Nicholas St. North, E. Aster Bunnymund, Queen Toothiana, and Sanderson Mansnoozie.”_ **

Swirling white mist appeared in front of Jack, and, as Ebon vanished into the shadows along with the doctor’s corpse, images began to form within it.

**()()()()**

_ All four original Guardians of Childhood stood in the middle of the Motorean desert in the dead of night, gazes resting on a nondescript patch of sand that looked no different from the rest of the terrain. _

_ At least, it would have, had it not been outlined with a blue, ethereal light. _

_ “So this is place,” North commented grimly. _

_ “Seems ta be,” Aster confirmed, arms crossed. “If the girl’s ta be believed, we head down there, we find Frostbite.” _

_ “I still can’t believe there are more snow sprites aside from Jack…” Tooth whispered softly. Sandy nodded in agreement. _

_ “Yeah, well...there’s only one snow sprite we need ta focus on for now,” said Aster. “Two, if ya count the one that captured the kid. We’re gonna need ta do somethin’ about him for sure.” _

_ The other three nodded in solemn agreement. _

_ “Alright…” North exhaled. “Let us go.” _

_ The man reached out and touched the glowing patch of sand, and it immediately dissolved under his fingertips, revealing a stairway made from ice that led down beneath the desert. With no more words exchanged between them, the four descended into the dark. _

_ Soon, the sand illusion closed back up behind them, and, had it not been for Sandy’s soft, golden glow, they would have been completely shrouded in darkness. As it was, they managed to reach the bottom of the stairs without issue. _

_ That was as far as they ever got. _

_ Without warning, dozens of knives shot out of the walls, each of them flying far too quickly for even the all-powerful Guardians of Childhood to dodge or block. The knives sliced and stabbed them in all different ways, cutting through them from all different directions, and ultimately leaving each of their bodies a torn, bloody mess. _

_ The Guardians had fallen without a fight, without even a word spoken. _

_ After a long beat of silence, a familiar figure appeared before their broken forms. Ebon grinned, his sharp teeth somehow glinting even in the darkness as his yellow eyes gleamed. _

**_“Pathetic…”_ ** _ he chuckled cruelly.  _ **_“What’s the use in potentially living forever if a few simple blades can still kill you in the end?”_ **

_ With another cold laugh, the Fearling waved his hand, and both he and each of his victims vanished into the shadows. _

**()()()()**

A long, long time after the mist had faded, Jack still had not stopped crying. He was entirely certain that it had, in fact, been several days since then, as Ebon had visited several more times and told him as much. He had figured out that the real Ebon only came once or twice a day, even though the fake one showed up whenever he pleased.

Jack couldn’t remember when, but at some point, when Ebon had come, he had brought the Guardians’ still-bleeding corpses with him. From time to time, he would unchain Jack and lay him down on the floor beside them so that he was soaked in their blood, which never seemed to dry. The bodies sometimes reached out to him. They sometimes groaned and cried and told him it was his fault that they had been killed.

He couldn’t help but agree with them.

Jack started having difficulty telling which Ebon was the real one. All of the torture and stabbings and everything blurred together before long. He did know that, at some point, he stopped finding himself still hanging above the pool. Now, he perpetually lay on the floor, completely unbound but still unable to stand, making him just as trapped as before. The fallen Guardians made a habit of holding onto him while he cried. He thought they might be trying to comfort him, but such kindness being shown even after their deaths made him cry even harder.

One day, Ebon didn’t come. Instead, four other visitors came in his place.

He couldn’t see who they were, as he kept his eyes closed while he quietly sobbed. He thought he might recognize their voices, but he couldn’t quite put names to them. Not that he tried very hard, of course.

_ “...oh no...J-Jack…” _

_ “What is--? ...oh...crikey...is he…?” _

_ “...no. He is still alive.” _

_ “Well, that’s a relief, mate, but...agh...from the looks of it, death might’ve been kinder…” _

_ “What!? How could you say such a--!?” _

_ “No, he...he may be right.” _

_ “H-Huh…?” _

_ “But...does not change rescue mission. Come...let us get him back.” _

_ “Okay…” _

_ “Sure…” _

_ “...” _

Jack felt himself be picked up and held gingerly in someone’s arms, but he didn’t bother trying to struggle. He knew these visitors likely weren’t real. They had mentioned a rescue mission, after all, and no one was coming to rescue him. Ebon had made that much clear.

He felt the Guardians try to grab at him and pull him back down as he was lifted away from them. He considered apologizing, but even as he was taken out into the hallway, he knew that he’d be back soon enough. No matter how many times a visitor took him away, he always ended up back in that cell.

Always.


	19. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys...I am so sorry. I'm so sorry it took me over a month to update this. I've been going through the transition from high school to college (where I am right now), and...it's been rough. Things are getting better, granted, but...yeah. It hasn't been easy, and I haven't had time to write...until now. I'm going to try as hard as I can to keep up an alternating schedule with this and Becoming a Guardian, my other story on Fanfiction and Rise of the Guardians Amino (as in, this will be updated this week, next Monday is Becoming a Guardian, and the Monday after that is Into the Dark, and so on), but I can't promise that things will go perfectly. Still...I'm back now, and for those of you that may or may not still be there...please enjoy :)
> 
> Oh, and remember, if you have soundtrack suggestions, please let me know in a comment!

_ From the Journal of Arios Fletcher _

_ So far, I have been unable to decipher what exactly could be happening to me, unfortunately. It seems that I have been blacking out more and more frequently, often coming to my senses in my room with no memory of how I got there. _

_ To my limited knowledge, this seems to have been occurring for around a little under a week. The only reason I believe this to be true is due to the strange carvings that have been gradually showing up on the wall above my bed, appearing to show each consecutive date (I have assumed that, on any given day, the last date written is the current one), as well as a possibly related phrase positioned next to every one of them. These carvings look as though they were written in my handwriting, yet I have no memory of putting any of them there. _

_ The inscriptions, in order, read as follows: _

_ “Captured, unconscious” _

_ “Boiling water and needles, anti-sleep spell activated” _

_ “Complete isolation begins” _

_ “Complete isolation continues” _

_ “Complete isolation continues” _

_ “Complete isolation continues” _

_ Naturally, such phrases are...remarkably disturbing. At this time, I am unsure of their exact context...but they appear as though they might be somewhat related to torture drawn out over several days. I can think of no other possibilities. _

_ But...what does this mean? Why am I (as I assume it is my own hand that carves these messages) documenting someone’s torture? And who is the victim? Is it possible that, during the periods of time I cannot remember, I… _

_...I shudder at the thought. I would like to leave and investigate, but...each time I step closer to the door, a wave of terror washes over me, and I lose myself once more. All I can do at this time is write down my thoughts and findings here, lest I begin to lose even more of my memory… _

_ I suppose the only silver lining here is that my previous craving for Fear has become distant, as though it was never even my own to begin with. For the first time in years, during my waking moments, I am starting to feel more like myself again… _

_ But I cannot shake the worry that the time I cannot recall is spent acting as someone completely different. _

_ - _

_ Several more days have passed without my knowledge. It has now been roughly a week and a half since I first blacked out, and more phrases have appeared on the wall to semi-explain what has happened during the lost time (at least, I believe this is their purpose). _

_ “Complete isolation ends, hallucinations persist” _

_ “Magic: suffocation, intense fever; boiling water; hallucinations persist” _

_ “Magic: marionette limbs, induced panic attacks; hallucinations persist” _

_ “Magic: suffocation; boiling water and dagger; hallucinations persist” _

_ “Magic: induced intense pain; boiling water; hallucinations persist” _

_...I must admit that it took some time to work up the nerve to record these phrases. On the wall, they are written coldly...clinically...apathetically. Almost as though they are objective doctor’s reports rather than wall-scratchings of a sadistic madman. _

_...perhaps that is because of my own influence as the son of a doctor. _

_ But that is precisely why I found copying them so difficult...as disturbing as they already are, the fact that they appear in my handwriting only increases the worrying effect. I...have little hope that the author of those messages is merely a bystander recording events he witnesses. The familiarity of the phrases is too great...though my mind does not recall these actions, my body has not forgotten. I have no doubt that the torturer performs his deeds using my hands...I believe that I may be possessed. _

_ As for what to do...I am at a loss. I can now sense that there is a monster within me...every time I attempt to combat it, it merely wrests control of my own body back from my hands. It knows my every thought and action, and it clearly does not intend to let me go. After all...I theorize that I am fueling it. _

_ It doesn’t need to let me out of its control for any stretch of time. Given how quickly it is able to overtake me once more, it likely has no issues with sustaining its possessive power. However...it allows me to regain consciousness every once in a while. Perhaps even over the past several years, it has lain low, remaining somewhat dormant, but still influencing my actions...it would certainly explain my crass behavior and desire for Fear. _

_ The monster is not leaving the inscriptions on the wall for no reason. It clearly means to disturb me and trigger a fearful reaction within me. I am left with words that are ominously vague, and yet startlingly clear. It knows what I have been fearing for a while now--that I am not in control. It allows me to be aware for just enough time to frighten me thoroughly, then pulls me back into the darkness so that it may once again borrow my flesh. _

_ Based on my observations, and from what I have studied about the monsters of the past...I think I have figured out what has taken hold of me. _

_ As unbelievable as it seems...I believe I am possessed by a Fearling. _

_ - _

_ … _

_ … _

_...my father is dead. _

_ No matter how many times these words run through my head...they never become any easier to swallow. They shake me to my core and turn my hand unsteady. They wrap themselves around my heart like fingers and gleefully crush it into nothing. _

_ My father is dead. _

_ My father is dead. _

_ My father is dead. _

_ And it was my hands that robbed him of his life. _

_ It has been just over two weeks since my first blackout...four more inscriptions have appeared on the wall. _

_ “Magic: suffocation; boiling water and needles; hallucination persists” _

_ “Arms sliced, wounds cauterized; hallucination persists” _

_ “Magic: marionette limbs; boiling water and fire charm; hallucination persists” _

_ “Magic: induced intense pain, false clairvoyance charm; boiling water...Doctor Eliminated” _

_...yet I do not need the carvings to tell me my father’s fate. The monster within me relinquished a small fraction of its consciousness to me the moment its dagger sunk into my father’s flesh. I witnessed that brief moment...then nothing. _

_ I do not know where I was, nor do I know if there were others with us. All I know is that the creature...it forced me to end my father’s life. _

_...I can bring myself to write no longer. The Fearling’s influence could return at any moment… _

_...and I require time to mourn. _

**()()()()**

Jack was confused.

It had likely been several hours, and yet his mind had still not returned him to what he knew was his reality: lying on the floor alongside his deceased fellow Guardians, listening to their cries as they curled their blood-soaked arms around him. Of course, they had still followed him, and they remained by his side to that moment, but he appeared to have somehow found himself in an entirely new location.

Usually, his hallucinations didn’t bother to take him this far.

Rather than the hard, bloodied floor that he had previously known, it seemed that he was now lying in a soft bed. A soft,  _ familiar _ bed. Was this not the room he had first awakened within when he had been rescued from death in the desert sun? That seemed like an eternity ago…

And of course, the very man that had brought him there was now dead. What an odd thought.

The strangest part, though, was the voices. Jack was used to voices, of course--they whispered in his ear almost constantly now, but whether that was from the madness or the Fearling’s influence, he couldn’t say. However, usually, they were quite clear, as, obviously, they all came from inside his mind. The voices he heard now, however, sounded distant, as though he was underneath a frozen lake and whoever owned the voices stood just atop the surface.

He couldn’t even see the speakers, though that was only because he had elected to keep his eyes shut for most of the time after he had discovered where he was, due to the lighting being much different from what he was used to. The dark-vision glow in his eyes had dimmed long ago, and he was now completely accustomed to total darkness.

At present, the voices, as they did often, seemed to be discussing him.

_ “Crikey...the kid looks...dead…” _

_ “I...I’m so sorry I didn’t find him earlier...maybe I...I could’ve prevented this…” _

_ “L-Lily, stop, please...th-the only one to blame here is Ari...er...E-Ebon, that is.” _

_ “But…” _

_ “Simon is right, Lily. Fearling was dangerous...you were lucky you were not caught and subjected to same fate.” _

_ “Yes, but...if I had found him sooner, maybe he wouldn’t be so...so…” _

_ “...broken?” _

_ “Yes…” _

_ “Mhm...what is done is done. Our next task will just have to be to fix this…” _

_ “But, North...how do we do that…?” _

_ “Good question…” _

_ “...” _

_ “Um…” _

_ “Lily…?” _

_ “I...I might be able to find some charms that will lessen some of his symptoms...and maybe we still have some calming draught around here somewhere…? He’s no doubt traumatized, so maybe it’ll put him in a state of mind that’ll let him talk to us a little...for a bit, at least. It...It won’t fix everything, but...it’s a start…” _

_ “Charms and potions, eh? Well...go right ahead and use ‘em, sheila. Frostbite’s gonna need all the help he can get…” _

_ “R-Right…” _

Well, that was interesting. Jack’s mind had apparently decided to go all out and create the most heart-wrenching scenario yet. He had experienced “rescue attempts” before, but none of them had actually succeeded. And yet here he was, listening to the Guardian’s voices (minus Sandy, of course) discussing helping him as though they  _ hadn’t _ all been killed while Ebon forced him to watch. As though they  _ weren’t _ currently lying around him, their blood surely beginning to stain his imagined sheets.

He heard the muffled sound of glass clinking in the distance, then that of footprints approaching him.

_ “Jack…? It’s...it’s me, Lily...can you hear me…?” _

He offered no response.

_ “Listen...I’m going to need you to drink something for me, okay…? It’s nothing major, it’s just a medicinal potion to help you calm down a bit...I promise, it’s harmless, and it’ll only do you good…” _

He was supposed to drink something? The fake Ebon had made him do the same thing a few times, only he was rather upfront with the fact that it was poison designed to burn through his body until he was left screaming in pain for several excruciating minutes until death finally took him. It was never very pleasant.

Of course, what had happened to him the one time he had refused to drink was even less pleasant, so he figured he should simply comply.

A few moments later, he felt smooth glass touch his lips. Although, he noticed that, unlike the fake Ebon, who had practically forced the vile liquid down his throat, the fake Lily seemed to be waiting for him to make the choice to drink himself.

Strange.

Knowing he’d likely be hurt more if he didn’t, Jack slowly began to sip the cool liquid from the glass vial he had been offered. Oddly enough, though he waited for the agonizing pain to begin, it never seemed to come. Instead, he felt his muscles relax ever so slightly, and the wails of the deceased Guardians became a bit more muted. He could still feel them grabbing onto him, but their grips seemed to slacken a bit, and the other voices beyond the four of them increased in clarity.

“Jack…?” That was Lily’s voice, right next to him. “How do you feel…?”

For the first time in a while, Jack opened his eyes, but he still did not dare to speak. He hadn’t done so in a while, actually. Perhaps he had forgotten how.

The last time his eyes had been open, it had only been for a moment so that he could see where his mind had brought him, and the only people in the room he had been able to see clearly in that brief second had been the dead Guardians around him. The rest had appeared to him as nothing more than blurs that he had hardly spared a second to wondering about.

Now, however, he could see that his mind had outdone itself this time. Not only was he allegedly lying in bed in the room in which he had first met Dr. Fletcher, but Lily, Simon, and still-alive versions of the Guardians were all present.

Lily, of course, was sitting beside him, the emptied potion flask in her hands as he watched him look around, expression worried. Simon sat on a second bed that had been brought into the room, an equally concerned look on his face, though it did not escape Jack’s notice that the archer looked rather worse for wear. He was thinner than Jack remembered, and though he had several thick blankets wrapped around him, his lips were tinted blue and he shivered every now and then.

Jack supposed he didn’t have to worry, though. This wasn’t the real Simon, after all.

The sight of the living Guardians, however, was enough to bring tears to his eyes. There they were, gathered at the foot of his bed, watching him worriedly as they stood tall and strong and unmarred by the gaping wounds he knew they should now bear. The dead Guardians cried softly in his elfin ears as he stared at the vibrant hallucinations.

Then, without warning, he lowered his head and softly wept.

The illusions did not seem particularly surprised. The living Tooth stepped quietly over to his beside, opposite Lily, and put her hand gently on his. It almost felt real.

“Jack...we’re so sorry we couldn’t find you sooner…” she said softly, voice exuding a mother’s warmth. “But...it’s going to be okay...you’re safe now, I promise…”

In a way, this fake Tooth was very similar to the one who had visited him so often before. Perhaps they were one and the same? They were always trying to comfort him, hold him close, tell him that things were going to be alright...they had a tendency to attempt to spread false hope, even though Jack knew that he was never going to be free.

“She’s right, Frostbite,” the living Aster added, his accented voice uncharacteristically gentle. “We got ya outta there...and ya ain’t goin’ back, not ever.”

This was new.

The fake Aster from before did nothing but shout accusations and insults at him, belittling him until he had no other choice but to curl up on himself (a difficult task for one hanging from the ceiling, but made much easier when he was moved to the floor) and sob. He could never quite remember why Aster yelled at him so much, but he had always figured that he had to have deserved it somehow.

This was the first time Aster had actually been kind to him. Perhaps it was a different fake Aster? Or maybe he was merely trying to lull him into a false sense of security before verbally attacking him once again?

The joke was on him, then. He hadn’t felt any sense of security in a long time.

Not bothering to respond to either of the illusions, Jack turned his tear-filled gaze towards the other two living Guardians. Fake Sandy seemed to be acting about the same as he previously had, with his worried eyes and gentle smile, but the fake North’s behavior had changed; for one, he was finally looking at Jack. The man no longer seemed to look as though he’d lost something. Instead, he looked as though he’d found what he had lost, but was devastated to learn that it had been broken before he had reunited with it.

Jack supposed that was fair.

“Jack…” the living North asked quietly. “You can hear us, yes…? Can you talk to us…?”

That was an excellent question. Could he talk to them? He had not talked for a long time...he wondered if he still could.

Experimentally, he opened his mouth slightly. Before he could even attempt to make a sound, however, his voice caught in his throat, and a feeling of dread suddenly washed over him. Almost expecting to be struck, cursed, or shouted at, Jack quickly snapped his mouth shut and looked away.

Talking wasn’t worth the risk.

The room fell silent for a few moments.

Finally, Aster broke the silence. “Well,” he exhaled, crossing his arms. It looked as though he was trying to mask the worry on his face. “Guess that’s a yes ta the first part...and a no ta the second.”

“The calming draught didn’t work all the way, then…?” Lily asked quietly, looking down at the bottle in her hands.

“I-It’s not your f-fault, Lily…” the still-shivering Simon told her. “W-What Ebon did...it hurt him. Bad.”

“Right…” Lily whispered.

Everyone went silent again, and Jack lowered his head in what could have been either shame, sadness, or fear. The boy could see what they were thinking, and even if they were only hallucinations, he still knew that they were right.

He really was broken, wasn’t he?


	20. Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Had a busy week, so I'm updating kinda late into the night, but I'll still count this as making it on time :)
> 
> Oh, and once again, if any of you have an idea for a song that could go on a soundtrack for this story, please let me know! I'm building one up myself, but any help would be greatly appreciated!
> 
> And with that, on with the chapter!

**** Twisted as it was, Jack had to admit that his mind had truly impressed him this time. For some reason, it was keeping him in the room with Simon, Lily, and the living Guardians for quite a while, when normally, it would have returned him to his personal hell a long time before this point. Apparently, his hallucinations were even more powerful than he had originally thought.

However, they appeared to have changed a bit from how they were before. Rather than consistently plague him in the form of his “visitors,” they now seemed to have staved off a bit. Ebon had only visited once in the past several hours, and even then, he only taunted Jack from the door, and the dead Guardians, while still present, were quieter now (he knew their presence had to be real, but corpses couldn’t talk, of course, so he figured that was in his imagination). The only constant illusions now were the figments of his imagination that had allegedly rescued him and now were caring for him.

Jack supposed that his slight shift in mental state had something to do with the potion that Lily kept giving to him every hour. The “calming draught,” as she called it. He wasn’t sure what the liquid was in real life (if it even actually existed in real life), but regardless, it did bring him a little more clarity than he was used to every time he took a dose.

Either that, or his mind was only fooling him further by making him think he was thinking clearer, when in reality, he was still completely lost within his own head. Such an option seemed a bit more likely given his current situation.

Due to his still-constant pain rendering him bedridden and his own voice seemingly vanished from his throat, in between doses of the possibly-real calming draught, Jack could do little more than listen as his hallucinated caretakers talked amongst themselves. They mostly discussed Jack himself, and how worried they were about him, but other times, he managed to catch snippets of conversation that gave him ideas of what might have been happening outside his prison (not that they were anything more than theories conjured up by his own thoughts, of course).

At present, for instance, the sprite was listening in on a conversation between Simon, and Lily. As far as he knew, the living Guardians were elsewhere, and the two of them were the only others (aside from the dead Guardians, obviously) that remained in the room. His eyes were closed and the voices sounded vaguely distant, but, for lack of anything else to occupy his time, he did his best to listen.

“How are you feeling, Simon…?” Lily was asking quietly, a concerned tone to her voice.

“S-Still c-cold…” was the shivering archer’s only response.

Lily sighed sadly. “To be expected,” she said softly. “Ari...I mean...Ebon had you in that freezing cell for far too long...here, let me get you some more of that warming potion…”

“Th-Thank you…”

There was then the sound of footsteps, then that of clinking glass, then more footsteps. Then, a pause, as Simon presumably drank the potion that Lily had gotten for him. After a few seconds, the archer sighed in apparent relief, and when he spoke again, his voice shook less than before.

“Thank you, Lily…” he said softly. “That...that really does help.”

“It’s no problem at all…” came Lily’s reply. “It’s a simple potion...not one I usually make for people, of course, but for the animals and plants down here, I’ve found it quite useful…”

“Heh...I’m lucky you’re here, then.”

“I...I suppose so…”

It seemed that this hallucinated Simon was a bit more eloquent when speaking with the girl he fancied than the real one was, Jack privately acknowledged. Interesting.

There was a long pause in the conversation, and though Jack still kept his eyes closed, he somehow got the distinct feeling that the two of them had fixed their gazes on him. His intuition was confirmed momentarily by Simon’s next words.

“Lily, I...I don’t mean to criticize your magical skills, but...how come the calming draught isn’t working properly for Jack…? He seems to come to his senses a bit right after he takes a dose, but...his eyes are still so...so blank. And he still refuses to speak…I understand that he’s sustained throat injuries, but he hasn’t even attempted past opening his mouth once...”

Lily sighed. “Well...the problem is that the calming draught is relatively minor...it’s not usually meant for distress of this magnitude...it’s typically only used for smaller amounts of anxiety or fear. What Jack’s been through...it’s so much more than that.”

“Understandable...and...what of his refusal to speak…? Could that have something to do with his trauma…?”

“I think that’s exactly what it is...I’d say it’s very likely that something happened to make him associate speaking with getting hurt...did you see how afraid he looked when we first asked him to talk…?”

“Yes...almost like he was expecting to be attacked…”

“He’s not thinking clearly yet...even though he’s been saved, I’m sure his mind is still constantly taking him back to that room. I wouldn’t be surprised if he still believes that something bad will happen to him if he dares to speak...which is why he refuses to talk to us.”

Jack thought back to what Ebon had put him through so far. There was the boiling hot water scalding his mouth, the ice needles that sometimes strayed uncomfortably close to his tongue, the magically induced pain that tore screams from his throat, the taunts and jeers and hits and wounds he’d receive for each whimper of pain and cry for mercy, the endless  _ talking _ that Ebon had insisted on, always trying to get Jack to respond back just so he could laugh and hurt him again because he showed he was hurt.

Perhaps his hallucinations were right. Maybe he had been conditioned into silence.

Though it wasn’t like he could do much about it now.

“Well...what can we do, then?” Simon was asking. “How do we get him to realize that he’s not there anymore?”

“I...I don’t know, Simon…” Lily said uncertainly. “I’ve seen trauma before, of course, plenty of people here were traumatized by witnessing the destruction of their villages, but...I’ve never seen a victim of this much torture before…and...and I’m no doctor…”

She trailed off there, but Jack heard the unspoken words in her tone: “And our doctor was just recently murdered.”

“And neither am I…” Simon murmured. He heaved a sad sigh. “Still...we need to do something.”

“Believe me, I agree,” Lily assured him. “But...what can we do…? The calming draught isn't doing much, and it would be dangerous to try to force a stronger potion on him when his mind’s still so fragile...Aster seems to have a decent amount of medical knowledge, and Jack is immortal, after all, so he should physically heal just fine soon enough, but...I wouldn’t even know where to start with healing his mind…”

“Mhm...indeed…”

Broken. That’s all he was. Jack knew that much. Still, hearing Simon and Lily discuss him as though he’d died still hurt him a bit, even if he knew that they were only figments of his imagination. He was still there, after all...even if he was locked up in a cell.

Although now that he thought about it...perhaps he had been wrong before. Perhaps he really had been brought out of Ebon’s torture chamber. His mind had never shown him things in such detail as this before...he was now suddenly able to grasp full conversations when usually, he could only catch bits and pieces of what his hallucinations said. Perhaps, against all odds...Simon and Lily really had somehow found him and brought him to safety.

The living Guardians, of course, were obviously still illusions, though. How could they be alive? He had watched them die before his very eyes. Sure, his eyes weren’t to be trusted much lately, but he could hardly deny the results of a quite clear clairvoyance charm. As insane as he was, Ebon was quite excellent at performing magic. Or maybe Arios was, and Ebon was merely leeching off of the young man’s power. He couldn’t be sure.

What he was sure of, however, was the fact that the other Guardians were dead. Gone. Never coming back. And real or fake, their corpses would continue to haunt him no matter what he did.

But maybe...if Simon and Lily were real, at least, he could try to ease their minds a bit. Maybe he could let them know that he acknowledged that they had helped him. Even if he couldn’t speak...he could at least try to give them a sign.

For the first time in a while, he opened his eyes and turned his head.

Evidently, the archer and the magical expert noticed his slight movement, as they now looked at him in surprise.

“Jack…?” Simon asked tentatively, sitting up in bed. “You’re awake…”

For a moment, the boy only stared back at the young man blankly, but then reminded himself that, since these two were probably real, he should answer them in some way. After a moment, he gave a brief nod.

Though it was a small gesture, the effect was significant and instantaneous. Both Simon and Lily’s eyes widened and they quickly shared a surprised glance before immediately turning back to face Jack.

“Y-You responded…” Lily breathed, clearly startled. “Does...does that mean you’re willing to talk to us…?”

Here, Jack hesitated. He knew that logically, if he had indeed been rescued, and Ebon wasn’t anywhere near here, then there would be no penalty for him if he tried to speak. And yet...he still could not shake the feeling that something bad would happen if he dared to use his voice. It was admittedly frustrating...but it left him no choice but to remain silent.

As such, he shook his head.

Lily looked put out, but Simon apparently wasn’t ready to give up. “Then how about you write something down for us?” he suggested. “You don’t even need to sit up, we’ll get you some parchment, a quill, some ink...and you can write whatever you want. That way, you don’t need to speak, right?”

Jack had to admit that the archer was right. He hadn’t even had access to writing materials during his time in Ebon’s cell...thus, Ebon hadn’t bothered pounding it into his head that he couldn’t use that form of communication. Yes...writing should be fine.

He nodded.

“I’ll get you those things, then,” Lily told him, standing. She seemed to be making an effort to keep her expression neutral, but looked as though she was hiding a relieved smile. It was as if she was happy, but trying not to get her hopes up.

Jack figured that was smart. He was still mostly broken, after all.

A few moments later, Lily slipped some parchment and a quill into his hands, placing a bottle of ink at his side. For a long time, Jack simply stared at the objects, amazed by the simple fact that...they were  _ real _ . He could  _ feel _ them, and the sensation was far different than those of his hallucinations had been. Those had brought only pain and suffering at every turn, no matter what, but these simple objects...they were so mundane that they just couldn’t be fake.

He felt his eyes well up with tears.

He was out.

He was really and truly out.

“Jack…? What’s wrong…?” Lily asked softly, sitting down in the chair next to his bed.

The young sprite looked at her for a moment, then, with a shaking hand, he lifted the quill and dipped it into the ink bottle. His arms still ached badly from hanging by his wrists for so long, but his conviction outmeasured the force of his pain. He was slow, he was nervous, he took an embarrassingly long amount of time to write five letters...but he did it.

_ I’m out, _ he wrote, then looked up at Simon and Lily for confirmation.

Both of them looked sad, as though gazing at an injured child (though essentially, they were). They looked at each other one more time, then back at Jack, then nodded.

“Yes, Jack…” Simon said quietly. “You’re out…”

Jack immediately began to weep.   
  



End file.
